


The Model Z (ZaDr)

by snakehands



Category: zadr - Fandom
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-08-17
Updated: 2016-08-22
Packaged: 2018-08-09 09:58:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 16
Words: 34,378
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7797406
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/snakehands/pseuds/snakehands
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>AU; this is a story about Irkens being engineered to be 'human companions' to use however they so desire. This story is written a little different than how I usually write, we'll see how it goes. Please don't leave me negative comments; if you don't like it then don't read it. </p><p>Disclaimer: It's ZaDr with mature contents; characters depicted are above 18.<br/>I don't own Invader Zim or any of it's characters.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

A lanky black-haired man sat at his desk, completely still except for his uneven breathing and the occasional lethargic blinking of his light brown eyes. His hands were poised on his computer keyboard, fingers lightly resting on the home row, yet he typed nothing. In fact he hadn't typed anything in days, maybe even weeks – he had lost any concept of time. Ever since 'She' had left him time had stopped for his poor broken heart.

The room was dim, blinds drawn against the light of the beautiful summer afternoon. He didn't care about the weather though, and he didn't care about his assignment which was due first thing Monday morning. The mating habits of the Flesh-Footed Furry Bird* would usually be fascinating to him, but the dejected man had no interest in anything anymore, and he felt no motivation to continue his research despite the impending deadline.

The man sighed for about the hundredth time that day and leaned back in his chair, staring at the blank monitor with his arms now hanging down limply at his sides. At first he had been offended when his editor told him he should start writing for a certain unpopular nature magazine. He accepted, though grudgingly, but his first few articles were dripping in sarcasm at the indignity. However that only made his column the most popular the magazine had printed in years. He was offered a permanent job and asked to be a major contributor to the periodical every month. Since at that time his writer's block was crippling his ability to write any more novels he accepted the job, though shamefaced.

Not that the man was very successful at writing novels either but at least he was doing something he loved. Now he didn't even have enough inspiration to write a small article about birds, nor any other topic assigned to him. His beautiful fiancée had grown tired of him and left and he had just helplessly stood there and watched her go. Just as that moment was about to replay the memory in his head again the doorbell rang, jostling him out of his private pity-party.

"I'm not going to answer that." The dejected man mumbled to himself, keeping his back to the door. The doorbell rang again accompanied by a loud banging from a strong fist striking wood. "Go away!" The man yelled.

"Open up, we got a package for this address." A deep voice returned.

"Just leave it there, I'll get it later." The man replied, "I don't want to see anyone." He finished under his breath.

"You need to sign for it!" A different male's voice said.

"And it's perishable." The first man added, sounding annoyed. "Freak." He whispered to his companion who snickered.

The door creaked open to reveal a very pale, thin man who was in serious need of a shower. One of the delivery men was tall and had a full yet neatly trimmed beard; his name tag said 'Cliff'' The other man was shorter and somewhat fat, his tag displayed the name 'Mark'. Between them was a large, wooden box – it was at least 5 feet tall and two feet wide and two feet deep – it almost resembled a small coffin. The man frowned at it in confusion and both of the men wearing brown uniforms cracked knowing smiles.

"Your name Dib?" Cliff asked, shoving an electronic signature device through the doorway.

"Ya but I didn't order anything." Dib answered, taking the stylet out of the holder on the device and signing the screen without thinking. "Did I win some contest or something?"

"Sure, first prize!" Cliff smirked, the sarcasm quite evident in his tone.

Cliff and Mark tipped the box onto its side and hefted it into the house together. Something made a substantial sounding thump from inside the package when they shifted it.

"What's in there, a kid?" Dib joked, moving aside to let the delivery crew in. Cliff and Mark both made faces of disgust.

"Pervert." Mark whispered but Dib clearly heard it. He was about to question the accusation when Cliff interrupted him.

"Where do you want this set up?" He asked curtly, no longer wanting to be there. "Basement? Bedroom?"

"Uh, well what is it?" Dib asked.

"It's a frickin' Irken." Mark retorted. "The symbol's right on the box." He gestured with his head at the red, triangular insignia painted on the crate. "So quit acting like you don't know what that is. And this box is heavy, where do you want it?"

"Well I don't have a basement but I really don't want anything that big in my bedroo –"

"Bedroom it is." Mark declared and immediately grabbed the box and took it down the hall. The house is small and only had one bedroom and one bathroom so it was easy for the hefty man to find the right place.

"Most of the equipment you will need is in the box; Mark will set everything up for you." Cliff started while pulling the instructional manual out of his shoulder bag. "It's part of the service." He managed to say over the sound of a banging hammer coming from the bedroom.

"What is he doing to my room?!" Dib yelled, heading for the hallway when he clearly heard the sound of drilling.

Cliff smoothly stepped into his path. "I suggest you allow us to install your equipment. The Model 'Z' is as hardcore as you can get and you don't want any of the screws to come out." He pointed to a large 'Z' printed on the first page of the manual to illustrate his point.

"Okay I don't know what you're talking about, I don't know what an 'Irken' is and I definitely don't want you damaging my walls!" Dib cried, hearing more construction-type noises from down the hall. "I rent this place!"

"It will only take a few minutes." Cliff said, casually handing the manual over. Dib didn't even look at it and put it down on his desk, still more concerned with his walls.

"Done." Mark simply said, dusting his hands off on his pants as he stomped quickly through the living room and out the door.

"Bye." Cliff said and quickly followed his partner.

Dib stared at the door indignantly for a few moments after it closed, leaving him alone in his living room. Then he turned and went to see what Mark had 'installed'.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

 

Dib slammed opened the door to his bedroom. He wasn't expecting to find anything alive so when heard a surprised "Ah!" sound he stopped short just inside the jamb.

"What the fuck?" Dib breathed, approaching the green creature that was sitting in a black chair in the corner of his room. The first thing he noticed was its attire: red leather gloves that almost reached up to its shoulders, a fishnet tank top and very long red leather boots with metal platform soles. He had to admit it was quite a sexy sight, even though the creature had green skin and black antennae growing out of its hairless head. Dib then noticed that not only was the creature blindfolded but it was restrained at the ankles and neck to the floor and walls with black leather straps. It also had cuffs around its wrists that connected to a collar it was wearing around its neck with a big 'Z' on the front; it looked like a dog collar. It had a strange gag strapped into its mouth unlike anything Dib had ever seen – it just held its mouth wide open, exposing what looked like dozens of needle-sharp fangs. Some slight drool was dribbling down the thing's jaw.

Its slender and well-defined legs were forced open by a metal bar secured at the knees and Dib realized that there was a very distinctive bulge in its tight red leather shorts. "What the fuck is this?" He questioned out loud again, realizing that whatever it is it's obviously male. The creature's antennae jerked at the sound of his voice and it began to struggle.

"Hello, Master." A pleasant male voice said. "Thank you for purchasing me, I am very pleased to serve you."

"Who said that?" Dib asked, seeing as the creature's mouth wasn't able to move.

"Ah!" Was all it was able to say as it thrashed against its bindings.

"Please input your name, Master." The voice said.

"Uh, I didn't purchase you . . ." Dib tried.

"It matters not." The voice happily replied. "Please input your name."

"Uh, Dib?" Dib said carefully, deciding that somehow this 'Z' thing was speaking to him. Dib heard a faint beeping sound.

"Thank you." It said, then "Please input your gender."

"Male." Dib replied, trying to look behind the struggling Irken but he was afraid to get too close. He could see some kind of gleaming metal thing on its back which was causing it to arch uncomfortably against the back of the chair.

Beep. "Thank you. And what is your preference?" The calm voice asked next.

"Preference?" Dib questioned.

"Seme, Uke or Versatile?" It clarified.

Dib didn't know what it meant by these terms but he figured he was a pretty adaptable person. "I guess 'Versatile.'"

The creature stopped struggling at that and cocked its head to the side. It made a strange, garbled sound then – almost like it was trying to laugh – and a fresh string of saliva dripped out of its mouth.

"Look, do you know who ordered you? So I can send you back?" Dib said, finally getting over his initial shock. He immediately went to the spreader bar, since it was making him very uncomfortable. He unclasped it and 'Z' was able to relax his shaking legs finally. Next Dib went for the blindfold but once he touched Z's head it immediately pulled back and out of Dib's grasp.

"Come on now." Dib said gently and reached for the blindfold again. "I'm trying to help you." The Irken just jerked his head to the side this time, growling loudly. Dib shook his head with irritation then decided to take the gag off instead.

The instant Dib pulled the gag out of the Irken's mouth he lashed out at him, snapping teeth like a rabid crocodile. Dib barely was able to jump back in time to not get a nasty bite. He stumbled over his own feet and crashed down onto his butt.

The Irken was still gnashing out with its teeth and snarling wildly. If he weren't secured by the straps the chair would easily have toppled over and it would be loose in the room. Dib shivered at the thought.

"Please remove my blindfold now." The voice said perkily. "I would like to begin serving you."

"No way!" Dib said, breathing hard while still sitting on the ground. "You're gonna bite my hand off!"

"I cannot harm my Master." The voice replied, not sounding so polite now. Dib heard a zapping sound and the creature's body immediately stiffened with a grunt, after a few seconds of this it relaxed and its mouth snapped shut. "Master, please remove my blindfold now. I would like to begin serving you."

"I'm not your Master." Dib argued but got to his feet and approached again. "And what do you mean by 'serving' me?"

"Please remove my blindfold now. I would like to begin serving you." The disembodied voice repeated. The creature itself had an intimidating snarl on his face and was breathing very fast. He was definitely not very happy at the moment.

"You won't bite me . . . ?" Dib said unsurely.

"I cannot harm my Master." The voice assured him. Dib hesitated when the creature made a strange rumbling sound deep in its throat – it was definitely a laugh, Dib thought.

Dib reached gingerly behind the Irken's head for the snap that was holding the leather blindfold shut. The Irken made no move to fight anymore so Dib quickly ripped the blindfold off of the Irken's face and hopped backwards. The Irken kept his eyes tightly screwed shut with his head down.

"Please make eye contact for approximately 5 seconds." The voice said and the Irken's head whipped up harshly, almost as if against his will. Dib found this to be very strange but he couldn't seem to look away. He wanted to see what the eyes looked like.

"Bonding in process." The voice told him when the thing's eyelids flew open with a gasp.

"Wow." Dib marveled at the huge, pupiless maroon orbs. He had an intense feeling of butterflies in his stomach for a few seconds, and then it was gone.

"Bonding process complete." The Irken said, its voice was a little high-pitched for a male but it clearly wasn't the voice Dib had been talking to up to that point.

"Oh good, you do speak. So you can tell me where you came from, right?" Dib said hopefully.

The Irken scowled at him. "Did you even read the manual?" He asked after a few moments of silence.

"The what?" he asked stupidly, still enthralled by the Irken's shiny, deep eyes.

"I have nothing to say to you, then." He said darkly, shifting his shoulders against his restraints uncomfortably.

"Why not, Z?" Dib asked, really wanting to untie the poor Irken but afraid of being attacked again.

"Z?" The Irken asked.

"It's your name, right? Well, I mean that guy said you're 'Z' . . ." Dib said, feeling really uncomfortable with the Irken staring at him so intently.

"That is my 'model.'" The Irken answered with a scowl. "Is your name 'Human'?" he said sardonically.

"No." Dib answered, feeling really inept now. "So what is your name?"

"You're asking me?" The Irken replied, lifting one hairless brow slightly. Dib merely nodded awkwardly.

"Zim." He answered firmly. "It's Zim . . . Master."

 

*Anyone know where this is from?


	2. Chapter 2

“Congratulations on your purchase of your very own Grade A Irken; Model Z, a product of iCy Inc.”

Dib squinted at the words ‘Model Z’ – it had obviously said something else originally and then been whited out and hand-written over the top. 

“Your Irken; Model Z has been carefully constructed of the highest quality components. Its design is the result of years of experience building robots and cyborgs. You will find it an extremely effective servant for all of your domestic and sexual needs as it has been programmed to accept all of its Master’s orders.

Dib’s eyes went wide at that. “Sexual needs?!” Now he understood why Cliff and Mark had shown such a negative reaction to his ‘kid in the box’ joke, his cheeks flushed red in embarrassment at the memory.

“The Model Z is unique in that it is highly independent and capable of taking care of itself. It is completely intact and unaltered. It can make simple repairs to both it’s Masters and it’s own minor injuries for your convenience.” 

“Intact? As in not neutered?” Dib wondered out loud, running his finger over the words he was reading. He could feel the indentation on the paper: much of it was hand-written over white-out as well. He flipped through the pages quickly and saw that the whole manual was the same way. He found himself wondering if all Irken manuals were like this. “Do they only have one manual template that they have to re-write for each model or something? No, that doesn’t make any sense.” 

“Please read this manual carefully as it will help you make the most of your purchase. Most of the problems you may encounter would be minor and this manual will provide an answer. Please do not take your Irken to a human hospital if it becomes sick or there is a problem with its PAK or behavior; contact iCy Inc. for all questions relating to the health and maintenance of this unit.”

“How can they refer to Zim as a ‘unit’?” Dib wondered, turning the page. “He is a living thing after all.”

“Chapter 1: Bonding

“Your Grade A Irken has been shipped with a blindfold. This blindfold will need to be removed in order to activate the unit. Irkens will bond irreversibly with the first human it sees so make sure it is the intended Master who removes the blindfold. It will require 5 seconds of uninterrupted eye contact to properly bond, after that it will be unable to bond with anyone else for the remainder of its life.”

“Ugh.” Dib sighed in exasperation. “Ok, what does ‘Grade A’ mean?” He flipped through the book to the glossary at the end, scanning down the list for the term he was looking for. “’Grade A: certified un-bonded and untouched; virgin’.” Of course. 

Dib flipped back to where he had left off reading. 

“All Grade A Irkens are guaranteed to last for the lifetime of their Masters. After that time the unit can be returned to iCy Inc. for reprogramming (see glossary for Grade B and Grade C) or disposal.” Dib frowned at the wording of that but continued reading. “All Irkens must engage in sexual intercourse with their Master frequently (ideally at least once a week) or it will die.”

“What?!” Dib read the sentence three times, hoping that he had misread it but unfortunately it said the same thing each time. “Once a week?” He tossed the manual onto his desk and took off his black-rimmed glasses to rub his eyes – he didn’t want to read any more. “Why did I get a male? At least if I got a female I could . . . maybe . . . ack, what am I thinking?! I can’t do that; they’re not even Human!“ Dib wiped his hand down his face and put his glasses back on. He sat back and tried to fight the guilt he was feeling now that he knew he had the life of this creature in his hands. “This whole thing is not my fault!” After a few minutes he decided he needed to talk to Zim. Dib got up from his couch and trekked back to his bedroom where Zim was still tied up. 

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

“Zim?” Dib asked as he pushed open the door. Zim was still in his chair, exactly as Dib had left him. He looked up with his characteristic scowl on his face. “I read the manual . . . ” He said, not specifying that he had actually only read the first page. “I’m sorry that I took off your blindfold. I didn’t know that you would –“

“If you send me back, I’ll be Grade B.” Zim said, his voice was soft though his expression was still angry. “No one will want me. Even as Grade A I was there for so long - I was so afraid they were going to disassemble me. And then you bought me . . . ” He sneered slightly at Dib’s sympathetic doe eyes, he didn’t want this man’s pity.

Dib decided not to argue with Zim about not buying him. “Then what would happen to you?” Dib wanted to know, not realizing how close he had come to the dangerous cyborg; in fact he knelt down right in front of him. “If no one will buy you?”

“Sometimes unwanted Irkens are sold to brothels at half price, but I doubt any would take me.” Zim answered coldly. “More likely I’ll be euthanized.” 

“Okay.” Dib said holding up his hand to implore Zim to stop speaking. “Don’t worry, I won’t send you back.”

“Really?” Zim whispered, eyes cautiously wide with hope. “You want me?” 

“Well I don’t have much of a choice.” Dib replied dimly. “I mean, I don’t want your death on my conscience.”

“Oh.” Zim replied and dropped his gaze to his feet. There was an awkward silence between them. Dib wasn’t sure but he felt like he had made Zim feel bad with what he had just said. He opened his mouth to try and salvage the situation when Zim spoke first. “Then let’s have sex.” He said simply without looking up. 

“Oh, yeah about that –“ Dib scratched the back of his head awkwardly. “You know I’m not . . . I mean, I like girls so I can’t really . . . . um . . .” Dib stuttered, embarrassed to be having this conversation at all.

Dib felt sick to his stomach when Zim’s face reverted back to his angry frown. “You just said you don’t want me to die.” He growled. 

“I know but I just don’t think I can –“ Dib started weakly.

“If you don’t then I WILL DIE!” Zim interrupted loudly and slowly as if talking to an idiot, and to him he was. “You may as well kill me now! It’ll be less painful!”

“Well, how long can you survive without it?” Dib asked nervously, standing up and stepping back when noticing how upset Zim was getting. “Maybe I can figure something out?” He put his hands out in what he hoped was a calming manner. 

“You ass!” Zim yelled, leaning forward as much as he could and snapping out again with his fangs. Dib cried out in pain when one of Zim’s razor-sharp teeth grazed his left thumb, it instantly spurted out blood. 

“Ow, damnit Zim!” Dib cursed, holding his bleeding digit with his other hand. “Aren’t you not supposed to hurt me?” 

“You’re the one who programmed me for S&M.” Zim snarled, he began struggling frantically at his restraints. 

“Programmed . . . ? Just - whatever.” Dib snarked, heading to the bathroom to clean out his wound. “Just where am I going to sleep with him in my room? There’s no way I could use my bed with him right next to it.” He said irritably to himself.

Dib ran his finger under the faucet, watching the blood flow out in rivulets. “That was close, what would have happened if I had still been kneeling so close to him? He said he wouldn’t harm me but he is programmed to do just that.” He worried. “He could easily bite my fingers off or worse.” Dib sighed, feeling very frustrated with this burden that was dumped onto him. “I’m going to have to gag him. But how am I supposed to feed him? And what am I going to do when he needs to use the bathroom?”

Dib wrapped a rag around his thumb and held it firmly for a several minutes. When he was sure that the bleeding had stopped he slapped a Band-Aid on it. “Well, I’ll worry about that later. I can just put the gag in that he came with I guess.” It wasn’t ideal since that gag seemed really uncomfortable but he can order a better one online and hopefully it would arrive tomorrow.


	3. Chapter 3

Zim was confused. It had been hours since he had arrived; tied up nicely for his Master’s pleasure, yet his Master had not touched him. “And he has said such cruel things to me.” Zim thought. And he had been so elated to have finally been bought by someone and then his happiness had been crushed, Dib obviously didn’t want him. 

“He says he doesn’t want me to die yet he doesn’t approach me.” Zim continued his train of thought.

“He cursed at me and ran away when I bit him yet he’s the one who asked for BDSM . . . “

“Wait . . . this must be a game! He wants me to beg, such a sneaky dom.” Zim smiled to himself, relieved at his revelation. “Thank Dib, he does want me.” 

He was still smiling when Dib came back into the room, something was clutched in his fist but Zim couldn’t see what it was. His lekku shot up in delight – it must be a sex toy!!!

Zim quickly got ahold of himself and lowered his lekku as Dib cautiously approached, just as his program told him to, and lowered his eyes in submission. Dib stopped as close to Zim as he would dare. Zim was trembling in anticipation. “Finally.” He thought.

“Master, I have been waiting for you.” Zim said softly. “I have been naughty. Please discipline me in any way you see fit.”

Dib gaped at his Irken, dumbfounded. He completely forgot about what was in his hand and he dropped it on the ground. Zim saw what it was – the gag that had been in his mouth when he had first arrived. 

“Oh, you’ve dropped something. If you untie me and I will retrieve it for you with my teeth.” Zim said, happier than he had ever been in his life, but keeping his head lowered like he was supposed to.

Shaking himself out of his trance Dib bent down and picked up the gag. “There is no way I’m untying you.”

“Of course, Master, I am sorry that I overstepped my bounds. I won’t do it again.” Zim said, trying to keep his smile hidden. “Please punish me!” 

“Okay, why are you acting like this?” Dib said uneasily. “This is weird.”

Zim’s peeked up at Dib. “Is this not what you desire? Are you a sub?” He inquired. “Really, Master, you're going to need to tell me what you want. I’d much rather be the dom anyway.”

“What are you talking about?” Dib asked, really confused now. 

“Untie me.” Zim ordered, donning his familiar pissed-off look. “You are the one who’s been bad. I will teach you a lesson you won’t forget.” 

“I’m not untying you, you’re too dangerous.” Dib stated. 

“That’s right I am dangerous, if you don’t do what I say.” Zim growled, putting his lekku forward now in aggression.

“What the Hell? Weren’t you just asking me to punish you?” Dib’s voice cracked as some kind of long metal rod came up out of the PAK on Zim’s back. It stopped growing several feet above Zim’s head then two sharp blades folded down from the top. They started to spin so fast they were a blur and they easily cut through the straps that were restraining Zim’s neck.

“Oh shit!” Dib backed up, not wanting to turn his back to this monster who now wanted to punish him. Zim brought his hands up to his mouth, they were still tied to his collar but there was just enough space for him to bite through the strap. That was when Dib turned to run but he felt Zim’s sharp claws grab his arm before he could even take one step. He scrambled as much as he could but Zim was incredibly strong, he pulled Dib over and sat him in his lap.

“Where are you going?” He purred, putting his hands around Dib’s neck. Dib realized that Zim's hands may be free from his neck but they were still attached to each other, and his ankles were still strapped to the floor so if he could get himself off of Zim’s lap he will still be able to run away and lock the door. 

Dib felt Zim’s fingers shift a little and decided to take a chance. He leaned forward with all of his weight and fell onto the floor. He looked back over his shoulder as Zim brought his cuffed hands to his face and bit through the metal chain with a loud clang, then stood up.

“Holy fuck!” Dib screamed, really fearing for his life now. He knew he should be running away but he was petrified of Zim who was now looming above him. He had no idea that Irkens were this strong, and his teeth weren’t even chipped from biting through those cuffs!

“Zim, stop!” Dib whimpered. Zim, unmoved, reached down with his claws and easily sliced through the straps holding his ankles to the floor, then knelt down in front of the cowering Dib.

Smiling widely and looking Dib straight in the eyes Zim picked up the gag that had fallen onto the floor and held it up to Dib’s mouth. Dib shook his head but Zim shoved it in roughly anyway. Dib cried out in pain and fear as Zim snapped it closed behind the Human’s head. It really was uncomfortable.


	4. Chapter 4

“Oh my God.” Was all Dib was thinking. “Oh my God, oh my God . . . “

Zim had grabbed him by his shirt and thrown him onto his bed roughly. He yanked on one of the leather leashes that was hanging from the ceiling (one that had Dib thought been holding Zim’s neck so securely) and pulled the hook right out of the beam. He wrapped it around his left hand and snapped it taught with his right. 

“Uh-uh!” Was all Dib could say around his gag when Zim jumped onto the bed on top of him and began to wrap the leash around Dib’s wrists. Zim took the loose end and tied it to one of the slats on the headboard.

“Okay, let’s begin.” Zim said and pulled Dib’s make-shift handcuffs tight. 

“Ah!” Dib grunted in discomfort. He looked back up at Zim imploringly. He shook his head from side to side.

“Master, you are being disobedient again.” Zim smirked, grabbing fistfuls of Dib’s black T-shirt. In one quick tug he drew it up over Dib’s head and left it there, still tangled up in his bound arms. A strange-looking grappler snuck out of Zim’s PAK, snaking its way over to Dib’s night table and grabbing hold of the candle that was sitting there – a leftover from his fiancée that he had never lit. 

“Ah!” Dib screamed. “Please, not that. It’s all I have left.” He wished he could say. He shook his head furiously. 

”You’re so excited.” Zim said brightly, totally misreading Dib’s reaction. “I see, you just wanted me to take charge.” He dropped the candle into his hand.

Another grappler rose up out of Zim’s PAK, but the end of this one morphed into what looked like a blow torch nozzle. 

“Oh no, he’s going to light it.” Dib thought, he watched helplessly as Zim lit the wick. Zim allowed it burn to for a few seconds, drawing out the tension in the room. Then he ran his claws sensually down Dib’s sparsely haired chest and stomach, appreciating his thin and defined torso. He leaned down and licked at Dib’s neck, sucking on the hot skin for a moment before biting down. Dib flinched and grunted in pain. He started to struggle fiercely at his restraints, almost as if he really wanted free. Zim sat up with a slightly bewildered look on his face. “Are you really so impatient?” He asked, bringing the burning candle forward over Dib’s bare chest. Dib shook his head frantically again, trying to get the message across that he really didn’t want this – that it was some kind of bizarre misunderstanding – but Zim still didn’t get it. 

“AAAAAH!!” Dib yelled when Zim tipped the candle, spilling hot wax onto the tender skin of his stomach. He squeezed his eyes closed and tried to swallow his yelps as the molten hot wax dripped onto his right nipple and up his neck. Zim tipped the candle back upright, staring at Dib’s scrunched up face. He scanned Dib with his PAK sensors again, hoping that the readings he was getting were wrong: Dib was showing no signs of pleasure or arousal, only signs of fear and pain. “Okay, he’s not into wax.” Zim thought and placed it back onto the side table, still burning. 

Zim accessed his PAK programming for a different technique. “Maybe he’ll like this?” Zim reached down and ripped Dib’s pants open, destroying both the button and zipper. Dib squeaked in surprise. Then Zim grabbed Dib by his hips and quickly flipped him over, pulling his jeans and boxers down and exposing his pale, but firm butt. Dib tried to growl or grunt or make any kind of sound Zim would interpret as displeasure but Zim put his hand onto the back of Dib’s head and shoved his face into his pillow. 

Zim raised his free hand up a few feet from Dib and thwacked him hard on the ass. Dib jerked and grunted loudly from the pillow. Zim smacked him a few more times, proud of how red he was making the flesh look. He flipped Dib back over, expecting his face to be flushed with desire but it wasn’t – he was glaring up at him furiously. 

Zim shook his head; he didn’t understand why this wasn’t working. He looked down at Dib’s crotch and saw that he was completely flaccid. “This doesn’t make sense.” He thought then grabbed Dib’s manhood in his fist. If he could get it erect with his hand first then he could put a cock ring on it to keep it hard. “Maybe he just needs a little help to get started . . . “

“Ah!” Dib yelled loudly and started stomping his feet like a child having a tantrum. Zim backed away at the strange behavior and Dib was able to leverage himself to get one of his legs up, then he kicked Zim in the stomach as hard as he could. Zim’s small body flew off the bed and crashed onto the floor. 

Dib pulled at his wrist restraints, twisting them back and forth in an effort to untie them. Zim stood up shakily from the floor. Dib’s expression was obviously one of disapproval so Zim leaned over and gently removed his gag. 

“Untie. Me. NOW!” Dib demanded. Zim sat on his knees on the bed and slowly untied Dib’s bindings. Dib sat up rubbed his wrists for a few seconds, sulking. He reached over silently and grabbed the candle that was still burning on the night table. He blew it out and kept hold of it when he climbed off of the bed. He grabbed a pair of pants out of his dresser then walked out of the room and straight out the front door, slamming it loudly as he went.

“What did I do wrong?” Zim asked the empty room disappointedly, watching Dib stomp to his car through the bedroom window, hitching up his drooping pants as he went.


	5. Chapter 5

Dib grumbled to himself as he drove down old, familiar streets. It was getting dark now and he just wanted to go to bed but he couldn't because of that . . . monster. He was grumbling to himself angrily about what had just happened. He was most upset about the candle having been damaged even though he had clearly told Zim not to light it. “And just what the Hell was that all about? Isn’t he supposed to follow my orders? How many times do I have to tell him no?” He huffed, gently fingering the burnt wick when he stopped at a red light. The wick crumbled under his touch.

“It’s all melted now.” He said sullenly, remembering for the first time in hours what had been making him so depressed lately – his fiancée. He hadn’t been able to get her out of his mind for even one minute since she left, how could had he forgotten about her for so long today?

“Damn lizard.” Dib murmured, gently putting the candle down on the passenger seat when the light turned green. “And he’s free now. He better not destroy anything else in my house.” Dib said to himself, remembering how ridiculously strong Zim has turned out to be.

Dib finally pulled into the driveway of a small house, yanking harder than necessary on the hand brake. Grabbing his fresh pants and the candle he exited his car and walked up to the front door of his childhood home. He unlocked the door easily with his key and stepped inside.

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“What are you doing here?” A grating voice asked when Dib stepped inside.

“Don’t start with me, Gaz.” Dib said to his perpetually-cranky sister who was sitting on the couch watching TV. He walked past her and up the stairs to his old room to quickly change his pants. He opened his closet and pushed the clothes still hanging in it away. “Good, it’s still here.” He said, calming down a little now. He picked up the safe that had been there since he was a child. He still remembered the combination and opened it. Inside he found some old baseball cards (worthless ones), notes to himself from elementary school and a picture of his mom.

Dib took a moment to look at the picture of his mom, smiling unconsciously. He gently put the picture back into the safe before placing the thick candle inside with it – which barely fit. Then he locked the safe with a relieved sigh. “Good.” He whispered to himself, then got up and went into the spare room down the hall.

Dib was surprised when he stepped into the spare room and looked around – there were clothes in the closet and toiletries on the dresser but they had no other siblings and their dad was such a workaholic that he never slept at home. He turned and hopped back down the steps. “Gaz, what’s up with the spare room?”

“What about it?” Gaz replied, deliberately being unhelpful.

“It looks like it's being used, who’s staying here?” Dib asked, not letting her insouciant attitude get to him (she’d been like this all her life and he was used to it).

“I am.” A happy voice piped up from the love-seat in front of Dib, startling him. He hadn’t even noticed someone was there when he came in, as focused as he was on his own troubles. “My name is Keef.” The perky red-head said.

“Oh, hi.” Dib waved dismissively. “I just wanted to take the futon that was in there but I guess you're using it.” Dib said.

Keef nodded happily. “Ya, Gaz said I could crash here for a while after my folks kicked me out.”

“Oh Gaz said so?” Dib smirked. “So are the two of you two an item then?” 

“Um no.” Gaz said, turning the channel on the TV. “He's a homo.” Dib blinked at her tone.

“Gaz, don't be so rude!” He chastised.

“She's just teasing.” Keef laughed, reaching for the bowl of half-burnt popcorn that was on the coffee table. He offered the bowl to Dib who quickly declined. “We've been friends for almost two years now, she just pretends to hate me. It's funny!”

“Ok.” Dib said, not finding that funny at all. He wondered how these two could be ‘friends’ being as different from each other as they obviously are. “I’m just going to take my old mattress home with me, then.” Dib told them. He turned and marched back up the steps and into his room.

Dib stood in his room, thinking about the best way to go about getting the mattress into his car. “I’ll help!” Keef yelled suddenly right behind him, and again Dib jumped in surprise of him.

“It’s just a twin; I can handle it.” Dib replied, annoyed with this new person in his house shadowing him. Dib stripped the childish comforter - it was covered with planets, stars and rockets - and dumped it onto the floor. When he straightened back up he bumped into Keef who was peering over Dib's shoulder. Dib decided to just take him up on his offer to help for no other reason than to get some space from him right now. “Actually, you can bring that if you want.” He said, pointing to the safe in the closet. Keef happily lifted it and tucked it under his arm.

Dib grabbed the mattress and hefted it onto his shoulder, eager to get out of this house. “Oh wait a minute.” Dib looked over to his old computer and considered for a moment ordering that new mouth gag now so he wouldn't forget. “Zim could get out of his restraints the whole time he was in them, a gag wouldn't be any help at all. But still . . . ” He decided he would feel safer if Zim's scary fangs were behind a barrier.

“I'll meet you downstairs in a minute, ok?” Dib said, sitting down at the child-sized desk and logging in.

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Dib was feeling much better when he powered down the computer. He had actually gotten a nice leather over the mouth gag that would be much more comfortable for daily wear. “Hopefully he'll leave it alone if I order him to.” Dib thought. “And if he doesn't, well . . . I'll worry about that later.”

“Thanks for helping me carry stuff.” Dib said when he saw Keef leaning on his car. He pulled out his keys and impatiently opened the back door so they could put their cargo inside.

“No problem, but I have a bit of an ulterior motive to helping.” Keef said happily. “You know, Gaz is a good friend and all but sometimes she can be a little bit of a downer. And I don't have any friends who live around here, so are you doing anything tonight?”

“Oh, sorry but I'm busy. I have to, you know . . . set up this mattress.” Dib answered, not able to think up a better excuse fast enough.

“Oh ya, that'll be a lot of work.” Keef said good-naturedly. Dib couldn't tell if he was being facetious or if he really was that dumb. “Well, you can call me if you need help.” Keef hinted and pulled a cell phone out of his pocket. It was Dib's.

“What the -?” Dib snatched his phone and looked at the screen. Keef had programmed his own cell phone number into it. Frowning at the smiling red-head Dib put his phone into his pocket and quickly got into his car, he couldn't wait to get home.

“Drive safely.” Keef waved as Dib quickly drove away.


	6. Chapter 6

Author's note: definitions of some fetishes at the end of this chapter if you want to read them (they are not all relevant to the story). Just know that some are pretty bad.

Also, I took some liberty as to the usage of the terms 'seme' and 'uke'. Just go with it.

 

Zim was still in the bedroom, sitting in his chair with his legs drawn up, his head resting on his knees. He hadn't left the bedroom at all since he had arrived. Dib expected to still be angry with him but when he saw the slumped, defeated posture he couldn't help but feel a little bit of sympathy for the unpredictable creature.

"Zim?" Dib said very quietly, not knowing what to expect. "Don't get up!" He hurriedly added when Zim picked his head up, even though he showed no signs of doing so.

"You have to obey me, right?" Dib had one foot outside of the door ready to bolt if Zim showed any sign of attacking him again. "Because I'm your Master?"

"You're a shitty Master." Zim said, and lowered his head back down onto his knees. "And unfortunately yes, I do have to obey you."

"Well you haven't done a very good job of that so far." Dib muttered, believing that he had said it low enough that Zim couldn't hear him. He was wrong.

"That's your fault!" Zim yelled, jumping up and puffing his chest out aggressively. "You're giving me contradicting orders!"

"Zim, I'm tired. Let's just go to bed and figure this all out tomorrow, okay?" Dib said, holding his hands up in peace. "Please."

"Fine." Zim agreed and ripped off his shirt. Then he sat back down in his chair to strip off his boots.

"Uh do you have any pajamas?" Dib asked after several moments of blankly watching him undress.

"All I came with is in that box." Zim answered, nodding at a cardboard box on the dresser, it had that same red triangular insignia on it that Dib now knew meant iCy Inc.

Dib hadn't even noticed it before so he went to it and opened up the flaps curiously. Peering in all he saw were things made of leather and rubber and flashes of metal cuffs and chains, among other objects. He quickly closed the box.

"Okay, no pajamas." He said and then almost bit his tongue when he turned and saw that Zim was now lying comfortably in his bed and running his antennae through his fingers.

"What are you doing?" He asked quickly. Even though Zim was under the covers Dib knew he was nude under there and the thought of it heated up his cheeks.

"Grooming my lekku." Zim answered mildly.

"No, I mean why are you in my bed?" Dib sputtered, averting his eyes by pulling one of his pajama tops out of the dresser.

"You said you wanted us to go to bed, so I'm in the bed." Zim replied, stopping his grooming. "If you want me to I will paddle you or hog-tie you, Master. Or I can just suck your -"

"Get out of my room!" Dib shrieked and threw the pajamas at Zim's head. Before Zim could respond in any way Dib was out the door and into the living room.

Dib grabbed the mattress that he had left on the porch and dragged it into the house. He took deep breaths to regain his composure as he tossed it onto the floor behind his dinner table but he was still quite flustered. "Zim, this is your bed." Dib pointed at the plain, little mattress when Zim shuffled out wearing Dib's very oversized pajama top, it hung almost down to his knees. Dib noticed for the first time how truly small Zim is – he had seemed so big looming over Dib as he had earlier but he didn't even reach the height of Dib's shoulders.

"Why?" Zim demanded, face showing his indignation.

"Because I don't want you in my room." Dib answered truthfully, also noticing for the first time how cute Zim is with his brows all scrunched up and eyes fuming.

"What am I supposed to do out here alone all night?" Zim wanted to know but he sat down on the mattress anyway.

"Sleep." Dib answered.

"Sleep?!" Zim repeated. "You said you read the manual. You didn't read any of it, did you?!"

"I did, too!" Dib snapped defensively. ". . . well, I read the first page."

"Idiot!" Zim screamed. "You obviously don't care, why did you even buy me?!"

"I didn't . . . " Dib started but stopped himself, not wanting to add to the Irken's agitation.

"Why did I get my hopes up?" Dib thought he heard Zim whisper but he couldn't be sure he'd said anything at all. Zim lay down on the mattress and curled up into a tiny ball on his side, away from Dib. "Good night, Master." He said acidly.

Dib didn't want to argue anymore so he silently walked back to his room for a long sleep.

 

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Dib woke up late the next morning from dreams about his ex-lover. He looked over to his nightstand which usually had her melon-scented candle on it, now bare. "Zita." He sighed and lugged himself out of bed. After a quick trip to the bathroom Dib trudged out to the kitchen for some much-needed coffee and took it sluggishly to his computer desk. He got himself ready to fully read the manual, something he didn't want to do because it somehow made his whole situation that much more real. He glanced over to Zim and saw that he was still curled up and facing away. Dib turned his attention to the manual and began to read.

 

"Chapter 2: Programming your Grade A Irken:

"Upon initiation your Grade A Irken's PAK will ask its new Master for his/her name, gender and preference. Please answer these questions either verbally or directly input them into the PAK located on every Irken's back.

"NOTE: DO NOT tamper with the PAK located on every Irken's back; it contains all information on keeping the Irken alive and functioning and if disabled it will result in irreversible death of the unit within 10 minutes."

"Whoa, I'm glad I read that. I was thinking about opening it up later today." Dib thought, again peering over to Zim who was now silently watching him. Dib continued reading, this time out loud.

 

"Preferences:

"Choose 'Seme' if you wish to have total control over your Irken.

"Choose 'Uke' if you wish for your Irken to have total control over you. Who the Hell would choose 'Uke'?!" Dib exclaimed.

"Invalids mostly." Zim answered cooly. "We're not just for sex, you know."

"Oh yeah, that makes sense." Dib replied, tasting his foot.

"Although sex is our specialty." Zim added cheekily.

Dib cleared his throat and continued reading.

"Choose 'Versatile' if you wish to have both. So what does this have to do with BDSM?" Dib wanted to know.

"Keep reading." Zim said, uncharacteristically patient.

"After a preference is chosen a 'Fetish' must be immediately imputed from the list below. If no fetish is chosen the default will be selected, which is the first item on the list.

 

"Fetish list:

"Bondage/BDSM . . . "

"Of course." Dib said exasperatedly. "I swear someone is playing a joke on me." He was almost afraid to continue reading the list if this was number one but he had to know what else he could program Zim to do - this fetish is definitely not what he wanted.

"Cannibalism, CBT, Cutting/blood play, Diaper . . . soiling . . ?" Dib almost choked on his spit as he read. "Exhibitionism, Extreme insertions/fisting?! Feederism? Furry!! Incest?!!!!! Ack!" Dib looked over at Zim aghast. How could he do these kinds of things? "What's CBT?!" He asked him.

"You can't handle doing that, trust me. Just keep going." Zim replied, amused by Dib's innocent reaction.

"Lactaphilia and MBP (require special programming and maintenance; contact iCy Inc. for further instructions) - what're those?" Dib asked of Zim again.

"Skip over them, neither of us is female so we can't do them anyway." Zim told him, grinning very widely and licking his teeth with his long, serpentine tongue. "Keep going, Master."

"I don't think I want to." Dib said but did continue despite it. "Necrophilia, Non-con, Orgy, Pedophilia, Prolapse, Prostitution, Scat . . . this just keeps getting worse." Dib sat back and removed his glasses so he could wipe his face.

"You're not done yet." Zim piped up from the corner, Dib didn't bother to look at him this time but if he did he'd see Zim lounging cattily on his stomach, feet twirling in the air. Dib replaced his glasses quickly so he could get to the end of this list of depravity.

"Slavery, Snuff, Torture/violence, Vomit play, Voyeurism, Water sports, Zoophilia. If you have a fetish not on the list just contact iCy Inc. blah blah . . . ugh!" Dib took a deep breath, he'd finished the list and now he had a bad taste in his mouth. He remained quiet for a long time. "So how do I re-program you?" He finally asked.

"You sure you want to? You look as green as me after just reading that list." Zim chuckled. "Do you think any of those programs are an improvement?"

"I don't even know what all of these are." Dib confessed. He briefly considered looking the terms he didn't know up in the glossary but then decided against it; Zim was right if he couldn't handle reading the list then he probably didn't even want to know what all of those terms meant, in fact he wished he didn't know some of the ones that he already did. And he definitely couldn't imagine doing any of them with this little green male psychopath.

"Okay, fine." Dib assented. "We'll just keep your programming what it is for now. The next chapter is 'health and maintenance'."

Dib read a little bit to himself and grimaced guiltily. "Oh, I see now why you got so mad at me last night when I said you should sleep. You don't sleep . . . or eat or use the bathroom? Never, really?"

"Well we can eat small amounts if you so desire it. There's a list in the back of the Human foods we can have, and of course iCy makes 'Irken food' but it's pretty gross."

Dib flipped to the back of the book, searching for the Irken menu page. There were only four things on it: Fun Dip, waffles, doughnuts and Poop Soda. "You can have waffles, what about pancakes?" Dib asked lightly.

"No." Zim answered, very serious.

"Oh." Dib said, not for the first time intimidated Zim's tone. He turned his attention back to the book.

 

"Chapter 3: Uses for Your Grade A Irken.

"Chapter 4: Training and Disciplining Your Grade A Irken.

"Chapter 5: Troubleshooting.

"Chapter 6: Emergency Procedures.

"Chapter 7: Glossary.

"Chapter 8: Index and diagrams.

"Chapter 9: Return Policy.

"Chapter 9: Warranty.

"Chapter 10: Licencing Agreement.

"There's so much to read." Dib complained but turned the page and continued on despite it.

 

 

BDSM = Bondage Discipline/Domination Sadism Masochism  
CBT = Cock and Ball Torture  
Exhibitionism = showing ones genitals in public  
Feederism = being fed or feeding another to get fat (yes it is considered to be sexual)  
Fisting = inserting ones entire fist into the vagina or anus  
Furry = sex while dressed up like animals  
Lactaphilia = breast milk play  
MBP = Menstrual Blood Play  
Necrophilia = sex with a corpse  
Non-con = non-consensual sex/rape  
Orgy = 3 or more people having sex  
Prolapse = body tissue protruding through an orifice (the uterus or rectum turns inside out and bulges out – requires months or even years of 'extreme stretching')  
Scat = sex with poop  
Snuff = killing your partner while having sex (usually recorded and very gory)  
Voyeurism = secretly watching others having sex or masturbating  
Water sports = sex with urination  
Zoophilia = sex with animals


	7. Chapter 7

"Okay, so it says you should be able to cook?" Dib said to Zim, standing before the stove and holding the manual open to a page from Chapter 3 "Uses for Your Grade A Irken" as if using it as proof. Dib was noticeably skeptical of Zim's supposed skill as a chef.

"Yes!" Zim replied testily, not liking being doubted. He was dressed in one of Dib's old blue tee shirts that was way too big on him, tight black pants, black boots and elbow-high black gloves that came with him. Dib didn't know why but Zim seemed to like to have his hands covered all of the time, even when sleeping. "I have had thousands of recipes programmed into my PAK. I know of foods more delicious than you could ever dream of." He boasted.

"Okay, go ahead and make something delicious then." Dib challenged, sitting down at the table to watch him work. Zim went to the refrigerator and peered in, scrutinizing his potential ingredients. As he was scanning the images through his PAK to access the appropriate cooking programs Dib's cell phone rang. He checked the ID and answered it reluctantly.

"Yes?" Dib said tonelessly, leaning back in his chair.

"Have you finished your article yet?" His boss’s stressed voice asked.

“It’s not due until Monday.” Dib replied. “I have all day -”

“Have you even started it?” The man interrupted. “You can’t be late on another deadline, they’re still angry at you for last time! And the time before that!” 

“I haven’t started it . . . but I work better under pressure.“ Dib claimed. He waited a few moments for a reply but got none. “I’ll start it today, right after breakfast.” He promised the doubtful man on the other line, still silence. “I uh . . . already finished the research.” He lied, trying to further reassure his manager. “I just need to write it up; it’ll only take an hour . . . give or take -”

“If you miss your deadline again we will be having a serious talk about your future with this company.” His boss said firmly.

“Okay, I’ll start it now.” Dib acquiesced.

“Good.” His boss said and abruptly hung up.

“Fuck me.” Dib whispered to himself, running his hand through his still greasy hair. Zim’s head shot up and looked over at Dib – Dib had forgotten how sensitive the Irken’s hearing is. “It’s just an expression!” Dib said, noticing the eager look on Zim’s face. “I need to do some work now.” He quickly interjected, walking away from the suddenly awkward situation. 

“Okay.” Zim answered then re-focused on his food preparations. This is the first time he was being allowed to serve Dib as he was programmed to do and he wanted everything to be perfect. “I’ll show him that I am valuable.” Zim smiled to himself, poking at the food he was currently sautéing.

 

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Dib sat at his desk, completely still except for his uneven breathing and the occasional lethargic blinking of his light brown eyes. He sighed for about the hundredth time since he’d been sitting there, staring at his computer monitor with his arms hanging down limply at his sides. He still felt no motivation to start writing, nor even start the required research, despite tomorrow’s very important deadline.

“Master, your food is ready.” Zim said gently, holding a steaming bowl in his hands. He set it down on the desk next to Dib’s hand and waited hopefully. Dib nodded imperceptibly after a few seconds but didn’t move otherwise. Normally Zim would have been offended by this flazé-da* attitude but he was more curious as to what his Master was doing, or rather what he was supposed to be doing.

“The Mating Habits of the Flesh-Footed Furry Bird.” Zim read out loud. It was the only thing written on the document Dib had been staring at for the past hour. He got no answer so he stood silently in his spot, eager to read the article as Dib wrote it. Nothing happened. 

“Master?” Zim questioned, nudging Dib’s shoulder slightly. “Are you too hungry to write?“

“Huh? No, I just . . . “ Dib trailed off, his eyes still glazed and far away. Again Zim waited, trying to appear patient but not feeling so at all. 

“Write something damnit!!!!” Zim screamed inside his head after only a few seconds, then in a huff said; “Furry Birds have big, floppy ears that look a lot like Human ears.” No reaction.

“Their feet look kind of Human-like too . . . big, nasty toes.“ He tried again, looking down at Dib with an annoyed scowl. “They’re pretty ugly all over, actually.” Dib laughed a little at this.

“Apparently there is a small sub-species of Furry Birds emerging that can talk.” He said added quickly, hoping to further engage his Master. 

Dib turned to Zim this time, coming up from his stupor a little bit. “Talking birds?” He asked distrustfully.

“Well, like how parrots ‘talk’.” Zim replied, happy that he had gotten some attention. “You know; mimic.” 

“Huh.” Dib said, as much as he didn’t want to be he actually was kind of interested in that. It made him want to know more about this strange, newly-discovered species. “How do you know that?”

“I just ran a ‘PAK scan’.” Zim said evenly and then closed his eyes. “I can see the two populations right now – looks like they don’t like to mix.” 

“What do you mean ‘see’?” Dib asked.

“I can access any database or information network I want. Right now I am tapping into a reconnaissance satellite that is in orbit above their island and making it broadcast a magnified image directly to my ocular implants. You can see too.” 

Zim tilted his head slightly and suddenly Dib’s document flickered off of his computer monitor and an aerial image of a sparsely-forested island was displayed in its place. It was indeed crawling with two groups of ugly red and blue birds with Human-looking feet and ears. 

“No way!” Dib said, amazed by what he was seeing. “That is so cool. The manual didn’t say Irkens could do this.” 

“That’s because I’m the only one that can.” Zim said curtly, not looking at Dib. “And I don’t have my own special manual.”

Dib looked over at the book that came with Zim and remembered how so much of it is hand-written. Obviously Zim knows this and is unhappy about it

“Do you know who wrote in that book, by the way?” Dib asked since he had the chance. He visibly wilted when Zim fixed him with his intense gaze. Dib decided he probably shouldn’t push it right now judging by that reaction, though he really wanted to know more about Zim’s background.

“Wait a minute; did you say ‘reconnaissance’ satellite? Like a spying satellite?’” Dib asked, suddenly very worried about the Military crashing into his house at any moment and getting caught up in some stupid conspiracy.

“Don’t worry about it.” Zim answered cryptically. “I won’t be detected.”

“How can you be sure?” Dib wanted to know. “Whose satellite is it?! Is it one of ours?! Oh my God, is it NOT one of ours?!”

“You will need to tell me the password if you want to access my archives.” Zim said neutrally.

“What’s the password?” Dib said, getting himself very worked up now. “Is it in the book?! How could you do something like this?!”

Zim’s jaw snapped shut with a loud clack. He grunted as his teeth grazed the side of his tongue, barely missing slicing it open.

“Please input password.” Zim’s PAK said for him.

“Oh, I don’t know it. I was just – never mind.” Dib said, scratching the back of his neck guiltily. He had forgotten that Zim’s PAK could take control of his body so easily and force him to do things against his will. “Sorry.”

Zim glared at him in obvious annoyance, rubbing his sore jaw when his PAK released it. “I said don’t worry about it.” He grumbled under his breath.

Several minutes passed while Dib took deep breaths and calmed himself down – he would just have to trust Zim that there was nothing to worry about. Once he felt better he became very uncomfortable in the silence. “So . . . what else do you know about Furry Birds?” Dib asked, deliberately changing the subject. “Anything about, like . . . mating habits?” He felt embarrassed asking this because of his unsure relationship with Zim at this point but any information Zim could tell him about these birds was a benefit – he really didn’t have time to do the proper research.

“I know everything that has ever been published about them.” Zim said. He knew Dib needed his help to finish this article. Not that Zim had been eavesdropping but his lekku are very sensitive and he had heard everything Dib’s boss had said to him over the phone from the kitchen, in fact he could have probably heard his boss’s voice from down the street he was yelling so loud. Zim knew Dib was already in trouble and couldn’t miss his deadline of tomorrow morning no matter what. 

“There isn’t a lot of literature on that specifically but these should help you get started while I go through the satellites memory footage.” Again a very subtle nod of Zim’s head and Dib’s computer began downloading several scientific papers and magazine articles. Dib smiled and began scanning through the documents.

Thirty minutes later and Zim had finished his scan of the satellite’s memory. The craft was programmed with a complicated orbit which allowed it to scan the entire Earth daily and retain that data indefinitely. Unfortunately there was little footage over the specific island since it was never an area of interest before now but he did find some short segments of video that managed to capture mating dances and nesting behaviors of the birds over the years. He edited those together with his sophisticated PAK software and prepared to transmit them to Dib’s computer remotely again but when he turned to regard his Master his face morphed into an unhappy frown.

Dib was staring off into space again, a document open but he wasn’t reading it, in fact he probably hadn’t even started it.

“Master!” Zim snapped and felt a little satisfaction when Dib jumped in surprise. “Did you not sleep well or something?”

Dib shook his head. “No, I slept fine –“

“Then what is the matter with you?!”Zim interrupted, grabbing the top of Dib’s chair and violently spinning the Human around to face him. “You should be doing your best to finish your work quickly so you won’t lose your job!” 

“I know, I just . . . “ Dib took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes with his hand. “I can’t write anymore.” He finished quietly and put them back on his face.

“Why -?”

“I just can’t!” Dib said, raising his voice more than he had intended. 

Zim grabbed Dib roughly by the shoulders and all but threw him out of the chair. Dib yelped in surprise: “YAH!” and landed roughly on his couch.

“I’ll write it!” Zim yelled, sitting himself down in Dib’s now vacant chair. Dib watched wide-eyed as words appeared on the screen without any apparent movement from the Irken; Zim was just sitting in the chair with his arms crossed before his chest with his usual pissed-off grimace that was so at home on his face. 

 

 

*Haaaa, I crack myself up. Anyone know where this is from?


	8. Chapter 8

“Hey, Gaz I’ve been wondering . . . ” Keef paused, waiting to see if she would give him any of her attention while she was cooking breakfast. 

“What?” She asked moodily after a few seconds.

“Why did your brother take that little kid mattress yesterday?” He continued. 

“I dunno, he’s a werido.” Gaz said, trying to scrape the burnt eggs off of the pan she was using to scramble them in. “Maybe he wet his bed one too many times and is too poor to buy a new one.” She said meanly, chuckling a little under her breath.

Keef just shrugged his shoulders, he didn’t really care he had just wanted to make sure she was listening to him before he asked what he really wanted to know the answer to: 

“Where’s Dr. Membrane, doesn’t he live here too?” He asked, trying to sound casual.

“At the lab like he always is.” She answered, dishing the black yet somehow gooey stuff onto two plates. She then grabbed two cans of beans and sat down next to Keef at the table. Keef plastered his usual stupid smile on his face when she turned one can upside down over his food and slimy, cold beans slowly slithered out with a sickening “shlump.” He put an experimental spoonful of it in his mouth. “And his name isn’t ‘Doctor’ Membrane, it’s ‘Professor’.” She pointed out, pouring the other can of beans over her own plate. 

Keef choked, half from disgust of his food and half from surprise at what Gaz had just said. Uncaring, she pulled out one of her hand-held video games that she still always seemed to have and started to play.

Keef blinked and went completely still and silent; something had just clicked in his head and he suddenly really needed to confirm something. He wiped his mouth with his sleeve. “Um, so you never told me your brother’s name . . .” He said anxiously. 

She looked up at him and raised an eyebrow; Keef wasn’t quite able to pull off nonchalance this time. “Dib.” She answered, actually pausing her game to scrutinize him.

“Dib?” He repeated. “As in ‘Dib Membrane’?” 

“Yeah.” She answered. “Do you like him or something? He’s a total freak –“

Keef didn’t answer; he just hastily excused himself from the table and took off upstairs to his room. Gaz snorted then returned to her game, nasty breakfast untouched. 

 

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Dib was standing next to his desk trying to read the magical words on his computer screen, but unfortunately his stomach made a loud grumbling sound right next to Zim’s head. Zim looked up at the Human who was causing him to lose focus. “Shut up!” He barked; now that he was distracted the words were appearing much slower. 

“What?” Dib asked, not even paying attention for an answer. 

“Shut up your belly!” Zim grabbed the bowl of food off of the desk and shoved it into Dib’s hands hard enough to push Dib back. Dib ended up falling down onto his couch again with the bowl barely balanced in his hands.

Zim went back to his writing and Dib regarded what he had been given suspiciously. He couldn’t help his nose curling up at the strange smell the warm (no longer hot) bowl was giving off. “Zim, what is this?” Dib asked. “It smells like farts.”

Zim ignored him, not wanting to lose his concentration again.

Dib picked up the spoon that was stuck into the bowl and pushed around bits of green and brown things laced with an orangish sauce. He scooped something onto his spoon and held it up. “This chicken is a weird color.” He said pessimistically.

“Just eat it.” Zim said, looking at Dib through the corner of his eye. 

“Just eat it.” Dib repeated in a high-pitched imitation of Zim’s voice. Since Zim’s eyes had no pupils Dib couldn’t tell he was currently being watched. He experimentally licked the thing on his spoon. After an uncertain moment Dib popped it in his mouth. His face showed several different expressions as he slowly chewed it. Zim couldn’t help a little smile forming on his face - his Master is proving to be a pain in the butt and doesn’t seem to be very bright but damn is he cute. 

“Well?” Zim asked when Dib stopped chewing, though he didn’t seem to have swallowed the morsel. 

“Mmmm-hmm . . .” Dib hummed, face strangely pinched. 

“Do you like it?” Zim asked, swiveling in his chair and regarding his stiff Master carefully. He didn’t need to run a PAK scan to tell that Dib was not showing any indications of enjoyment and his temper began to boil, article forgotten. 

“It’s not chicken.” Dib said around the food. 

“I never said it was.” Zim replied, observing Dib’s every move. 

“It’s kind of sweet, is it banana?” Dib guessed, wondering what Zim could possibly have found hiding in his pantry. “It can’t be, I don’t have any . . . “

“If you don’t like it I can make something else -” 

“No, that’s okay!” Dib said a little too quickly. Zim frowned and opened his mouth to say something when the doorbell rang. 

“I’ll get it!” Zim sang happily, mood drastically changing to happy domestic mode.

“No!” Dib yelled and quickly stood up. He discreetly spit his mouthful into his hand and tossed it back into the bowl before he yelled “Don’t answer it!”

But it was too late. Zim grabbed the door and flung it wide open, looking curiously at three girls dressed in different colored dresses; blue, purple and green. They also each had a matching helmet with the letter ‘G’ on it. Zim tilted his head to the side, not sure if they were cute or just creepy.

“Wanna buy some chocolate-covered Girly Ranger cookies –?“ The girl in purple faltered in her rehearsed line when she saw the green alien-looking creature looking at her expectantly with huge red eyes. “What is that?!” She cried, backing away. The blue girl also backed away slowly, not sure if Zim was dangerous or not but the girl in green stood completely still on the doorstep, shocked. 

“Cookies!” Zim cried happily, grabbing three boxes from the stunned green girl closest to him. “Master, give them your credit card!” He yelled, stepping out of the house to grab more cookies from the other two frightened girls who had retreated to the sidewalk.

“What are you doing?!” Dib put his hand on Zim’s shoulder in an effort to stop him but the smaller male just shrugged it off and continued out the door. “You can’t go outside! Get back in here!” Dib ordered. He grabbed Zim’s collar from the back and yanked, hard. It was a mistake.

Zim reared back and growled at the Human harshly. Dib stumbled back a little at Zim’s suddenly very scary face; his fangs were bared and his eyes were slitted like a wild animal. He threw the Human to the floor and climbed on top.

“Get out of here!” Dib yelled at the terrified girls and slammed the door with his foot. 

Dib struggled against Zim’s grabby hands, of course losing to his impossible strength. “Damnit!” He grunted in frustration as sharp claws tore his shirt to shreds, leaving gashes in the skin underneath it as well. 

Dib was about to command Zim to stop but before he could get any words out Zim wrapped his hand around Dib’s neck and pressed his talons into the delicate skin hard enough to partially constrict his airway. Dib wheezed and he looked up into the Irken’s feral face with wide, astonished eyes – it was obviously a warning to Dib that Zim was not going to be dissuaded from this easily.

“What the Hell is wrong with you all of the sudden?!” Dib rasped out, trying to pry Zim’s hand from his throat but it was immovable. Zim leaned down and slithered his long tongue out, lapping up a trail of blood from Dib’s stomach up to his throat, the welts on his skin burned with the contact. 

“Why did I give him so much freedom this morning? I knew he couldn’t be trusted.” Dib thought to himself angrily. “Let . . . go.” He mouthed, not able to use his voice. He was light-headed and beginning to see spots.

Zim obeyed, like any good Irken was programmed to do; he let go of Dib’s neck but instantly grabbed a handful of Dib’s crotch with his other hand. Dib froze completely, very concerned about injury to that part of his body.

“Zim?” Dib said in his best warning tone, still a little disoriented. Zim began to knead his dick and balls through his pants. “I don’t want –“

“Shhhh.” Zim hissed, removing Dib’s glasses and tossing them aside. He moved his mouth close to Dib’s neck and was about to bite down but remembering Dib’s reaction during their last scene* he decided to try a different approach; he gently licked the skin above Dib’s throbbing jugular and sucked hard enough to make a nice red mark. Meanwhile he didn’t stop his circular motion with his palm over the Human’s bulge and he was rewarded with some stirrings down there.

“Ahhh.” Dib couldn’t help from moaning. It had been a long, long time since anyone had touched him this way. Even though he had been with Zita for years they hadn’t been intimate in quite a few months before she left. Dib knew she probably had others on the side but he had never been unfaithful to her and as a result his body was starved for just this kind of attention.

“Mmm.” Zim hummed, licking and sucking at another spot on Dib’s neck, right below his left ear. The vibration on his sensitive skin caused Dib to shiver and Zim smiled, now slipping his fingers under the waistband of Dib’s sweat pants. He gently twirled his claws around in the coarse, curly pubic hair and licked a trail down Dib’s neck to his navel. It didn’t burn this time (Dib barely registered) but instead felt warm and tingly, which was actually kind of nice. 

Zim was able to push Dib’s pants down enough with one hand to grab ahold of Dib’s cock and pull it out. Zim swiftly shifted down so that he could stick his long tongue out and just barely caress the head with it. Dib flinched and then moaned again as Zim’s tongue wrapped completely around the dick twice at the base. He took it into his mouth and just started to suck when Dib interrupted:

“Zim . . . slow down.” He murmured. 

Zim’s eyes went wide for a second. “He didn’t say stop!” He thought thankfully. “Does this mean I can continue?” He decided that is exactly what it meant as he sat back up and directed his attention back to Dib’s now sweaty torso. Dib obviously was enjoying the licking and sucking so Zim attached his mouth to one of Dib’s nipples and continued doing just that. He then started to pull and tweak on the other one, scanning Dib’s body over and over with his PAK to monitor his reactions.

“Looks like I have found a few methods that Master likes.” He thought happily. He bit down on the nipple in his mouth, eliciting a hiss and a jerk from the Human but again he didn’t say to stop. Zim then sucked it hard into his mouth, pleased when his readings came back with high levels of endorphins – which was exactly what he wanted. 

Happily Zim licked the last few cuts that he had made when he tore off Dib’s shirt. Again the delicate skin stung at first but then became warm and happy. Dib almost seemed to be in a trance, writhing from the pain and pleasure of Zim’s ministrations. Zim was quickly running out of patience when he next smelled pungent Human pheromones in the air. He wiggled his lekku around to saturate them with the smell and soon after his left hand was around Dib’s cock again. 

Now Zim focused all of his attention on Dib’s dick – it was leaking and straining and looked delicious. He licked a quick swipe up the shaft to collect all of the pre-cum that had dripped down, savoring the flavor of the life-sustaining liquid. This is what he needed to keep him alive – the nutritious fluids of his Master. He wanted to slow down and really enjoy this first intimate moment between them more but now he was starving and Dib’s moans and whimpers had made him incredibly excited. He quickly engulfed Dib’s entire erection and swirled his tongue around it inside his mouth a few times. He hollowed out his cheeks and began to bob his head up and down. Dib grunted loudly and put both hands gently on Zim’s head, encouraging him. 

Zim purred with happiness and pride – his Master was reduced to a moaning, quivering mess now; obviously enjoying what Zim was doing to him. Every time Zim squeezed his nipple Dib’s entire body would jolt, his hips were thrusting instinctually in time with Zim’s sucking rhythm and he was panting heavily. It was amazing and electrifying – it’s every Irken’s reason for being and Zim could almost cum in his pants just from thinking about it. 

All too soon Dib was reaching his peak, his body was becoming more rigid and his face was scrunched up in concentration. Zim brought his mouth all the way down onto Dib’s cock and sucked hard on it with the back of his throat. Dib held his breath as his orgasm was building and just when he was about to break Zim inserted one of his fingers into Dib’s ass and pushed on the rubbery gland he felt in there. The timing was perfect and with a surprised gasp Dib expelled several spurts of thick, white cum straight down Zim’s throat. His body bucked uncontrollably several times, even still twitching for several moments after he was finished. He felt over-sensitive everywhere and his mind was fogging over with a calmness he had never before felt.

 

*BDSM sessions are referred to as 'scenes'.


	9. Chapter 9

* NOTE: I am not an historian, just needed this year for the story timeline and it just so happened to fall at the end of the Great Depression. The Great Depression itself is not a hugely relevant part of the story except that ‘Otis’ is very poor.

 

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ 1939 ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Otis DeFeo stomped through thick underbrush of the forest, pushing back tree branches and saplings as he went. At one time in his life he had been quite a healthy man, even burly, but now after years of malnutrition and sacrifice his dirty clothes hung from his frame and his skin no longer held a happy pink glow of youth, but more of a dull pastiness from a hard life. 

His partner, Bill, who was much older and scrawny (and always had been) followed. He was falling behind as he was becoming angry at being whipped in the face and torso by the foliage that the other man was disrupting as he doggedly marched ahead.

“Hey, slow down!” Bill called, tripping over roots and his own feet. “I can’t see nothing!” 

“Hurry up! I want to get out of here before dark.” Otis yelled back without stopping, his voice was half swept away by the wind and Bill barely caught what he was saying. Bill looked up to the sky, frowning as dusk approached.

“We should have come earlier –“ Bill started but was cut off when he tripped over something and this time he went down onto his face. Since he hadn’t been looking where he was going Bill had inadvertently stepped onto an abandoned rabbit warren which immediately collapsed under his weight. He sat up and rubbed at his bony ankle. “Otis!” He yelled, throwing his old Winchester rifle onto the ground in frustration. 

Otis heard the idiot thump to the ground and reluctantly turned back to help him. He held out his hand, “It ain’t even dark. Get up!” 

“Can’t.” Bill replied, refusing to look up to his partner or take his offered hand. “Twisted my ankle.” 

“Just walk it off!” Otis yelled, hooking his arm under Bill’s armpit and hauling him up to his feet, which was easy as the skinny old man couldn’t weigh more than 120 pounds soaking wet. “I didn’t get no work today so I need to kill somethin’ or I got no meat for the table.“

“Pssh, ain’t no game here anymore. Everything that wasn’t scared away by logging’s been hunted off.” Bill said, gesturing to the dusty hole that had eaten up his foot a moment ago. “When’s the last time we caught anything here – six months? I boiled my belt last night, that was my ‘meat’!” Sadly this wasn’t a joke.

“We found that dead coyote here the other day, remember?” Otis declared, wiping his sweating head with his handkerchief then stuffed it back into the pocket of his worn out trousers. 

“Not like we could eat it – thing was completely gutted.” Bill said. “Hide wasn’t even good enough to sell.”

“Well even so it’s proof that this place ain’t barren so quit your bellyaching.” Otis said, pushing the man ahead of him onto a slightly worn path; marked by subtle indentations into the dirt by his shoes from walking through here every day for so long. Otis stooped down to pick up Bill’s gun and tried to sling it over his shoulder but instead Bill snatched it out of his hand and slung it over his own. He rolled his eyes and looked pointedly back the way they had come. He was obviously considering leaving. 

“I always split my catch with you . . . “ Otis reminded him.

Bill looked back at him, still dubious. “Oh, so you’re going to give me half a handful of Nettle again?”

“Shut your mouth!” Otis barked, insulted. This is why he hated inviting Bill along with him to hunt – he hated the man and his constant negativity. Unfortunately he’s the only person Otis knows who owns a rifle.

Ever since Otis had lost his job two years ago things had been tight. Now he was close to losing his one-room apartment, which would leave him, his wife and young son out on the streets. It has been impossible for him to make any money lately as a handy man, plumber, gardener, shoe shine, baby sitter, beggar or anything else he was physically able to do and their pantry, which had always been lightly stocked due to their poverty, was now empty. That is why he had been poaching in the forest in the first place, though most of the time he caught nothing since so many other hard-up people have been doing the same. But even without a kill they could harvest some edible plants and flowers (such as Stinging Nettle) and quite often that was all he was able to bring home to his small family.

“Why don’t we split up here, hmm?” Otis offered, trying very hard to keep his temper in check. He lit his oil lantern with a match he struck on his thumbnail and held it out to Bill. It wasn’t really that dark and Otis could see just fine, Bill was just complaining to complain so he gave him the light to pacify him. “I’ll go north, you go east. You know where all my traps are out that a-way. And if you see anything moving shoot it, I don’t care if it’s a buck or a chipmunk – I’ll eat it.” 

“Ya, right. Better watch it or I’ll shoot you.” Bill grabbed the handle of the light and took off, slightly favoring his right foot. 

Otis rolled his eyes and inspected his dull axe and old slingshot. He wished he had a gun like his companion but he only had these two pathetic tools. He sighed – ya times is real tough for the DeFeo family right now. He straightened up his back and pushed the negative thoughts away then started jogging down the incline that would take him to his first trap in about two miles. From there he would circle to the right, following along his ‘territory’ checking his traps as he went. At the same time Bill will be checking his traps to the east while circling left coming toward Otis from upwind to scare any game down to him. They would meet in the middle and hopefully between the two of them they will have some meat for dinner, even though they did this almost every evening and it never works – Bill is right in that there was little to no game in these parts anymore but neither had cars so they couldn’t leave to new lands. Otis was getting so weary but the hungry bellies depending on him at home kept him coming back day after day.

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Otis was beginning to feel a lot older than his years – the man was in his late 20s but right now as he had slowed to a walk in the cold wind and rapidly progressing darkness he felt more like he was in his 100s. He was so tired of working so hard and failing at everything - not one of his traps had caught anything, several had been stolen and now the day really was almost over. 

He got to the spot where he and Bill usually met up and saw that he was the first one to arrive. There was no sign of his partner but at the moment Otis wasn’t upset about it – he was happy right now to just let himself relax for a few minutes and wait. So he sat down against a fallen tree and rested his eyes.

Otis’s eyes flew open when he heard a loud, echoing whooping noise. He had apparently fallen asleep for it was completely dark now. He stood up, reassuring himself that there were no wolves within miles of here – hadn’t been for over ten years according to the papers he always reads before he burns for warmth. The weird whooping rang out again and he realized that it didn’t really sound like a wolf anyway; it was too high-pitched and lilting. In fact it sounded more like a maniacal laugh than a howl but there was no way it came from any Human’s throat. 

“Bill?” Otis asked anyway in a husky whisper. He took a few tentative steps toward a bunch of trees where Bill should have exited hours ago but there was no sign of any life at all. The laugh didn’t sound too far off and luckily the wind hadn’t shifted much and he was still downwind; if there was some kind of dangerous animal (like a bear or cougar) he should remain undetected as long as he kept quiet. With these thoughts in his head he went in search of his neighbor.

After a few minutes of creeping through vegetation Otis could hear the telltale crunching sounds of something running around the forest floor just a little further ahead, past some bushes. As he slowly approached he could see a glow through the branches – his lantern. “Fool fall asleep?” Otis mumbled under his breath, taking the last steps into a clearing, then came to a dead stop.

There was some kind of thing kneeling down by the lantern. It looked like a very small and skinny man wearing pink and black. However, even though it was facing away from him he could clearly see it’s hairless head and it was green. The way it moved was very swift and precise and Otis noticed that it had two long, black antennae wiggling back and forth on its head like a bug do*. “A Martian?” He thought, trying to get his brain to work – should he say something or should he run away? Instead of doing either he just stood there in a stupor as the being straightened up, cradling something in its hands. 

Otis clenched his teeth shut to prevent a scream when he saw that it was holding a brain up to its face so it could wave it’s antennae over it. His eyes reluctantly slid down to see Bill lying in the dirt, his body slashed open and his guts strewn about. “Okay definitely run away now!” Otis thought and ever so carefully started to tiptoe backwards, refusing to turn away from it until he was at a safer distance.

As it was peering at the brain from different angles a thin rod came up and out of some kind of spotted shell that was on its back, which made it look even more insect-like. A small beam of light scanned over the organ from the rod and then it retracted back into the shell. The creature then unceremoniously dropped the brain back down into Bill’s cracked-open skull, shaking its hands of blood and brain matter with a displeased look on its face. 

“MEOW!!” Something suddenly screamed in Otis’s face. The startled Human fell back onto his butt, he slapped his hand over his mouth in an effort to choke back any sound of surprise or pain – which was partially effective. Some weird yellow and black animal thing had dropped down on him from a tree branch above and was now making that crazy laughing sound again as it jumped up and down before him. 

“Aiiiiiiiii!” It screeched, pointing at him and looking back at the Martian. 

The alien thing made a weird clicking sound deep in its throat while wiping its hands on some leaves, apparently dismissing the dogish thingy. It stopped jumping and making noises and simply shrugged, as if accustomed to being ignored. 

It stared at Otis for a few seconds with huge, unblinking buggy eyes then reached out its tiny paw to the Human’s head. After mussing up his hair thoroughly it climbed into his lap and circled a few times before sitting down. The entire time Otis had kept his hand over his mouth but his breathing had become so hard with his terror that he was certain the alien could hear it, he squeezed his eyes shut and willed the animal to go away and lose interest in him.

“Ooooh!” The creature crooned, holding up Otis’s slingshot. The Human tried to snatch it back but the little thing jumped off of him and ran back over to the angry green guy with it. Otis felt like he was about to have a heart attack when the Martian looked closely at his weapon. It dangled its antennae over it and his face contorted into a scowl. It suddenly looked up, directly at him.

Otis immediately scrambled up to his feet and took off in a panic - he had no idea where he was heading he just needed to get away. The creature raced after him and easily chased him down after a few paces. It tackled the Human and flipped him over to his back. Otis was looking up at the most terrifying thing he had ever seen – it was indeed green with huge, pupiless red eyes that took up almost half of its face. It was turning its head this way and that as it leaned in too close to him, and is so much stronger than it looks – it easily had Otis’s neck pinned down and kept him hostage despite its much lighter weight. 

The animal came running up to them, holding Bill’s gun up over its head like a club – it obviously was intending to hit Otis over the head with it. When it got within striking distance the alien sat up and held up it’s hand calmly to stop it – simultaneously releasing its grip on Otis’s neck. They began to speak to each other in some alien language.

Otis used the moment of distraction to grab Bill’s gun out of the dog’s hands. He turned it as quickly as he could and shot the alien in the face. To his astonishment it actually dodged the bullet! “How can it dodge a bullet at such close range? I’ve never seen anything move so fast!” 

The alien growled and grabbed the gun out of the Human’s hands, swinging it to the ground and breaking it in half with just one hand. Otis again just gaped at the display of strength and felt his consciousness slipping, “I’m going to pass out.” He thought as his adrenalin rush began to ebb. 

The alien returned its attention to Otis, still growling threateningly as it picked at his shirt with its long, slender fingers. The antennae twitched and wiggled jerkily and it reminded Otis of a cockroach, which sickened him as his vision started to blacken at the corners. 

The animalish one yelled something loudly then smacked the alien in the side of the head, just clipping the tip of its right antenna, then it jumped onto Otis’s chest and put it’s face right onto Otis’s. 

The alien hissed then fell back onto it’s back in the dirt. It stayed there for a few moments shaking its head and making a low buzzing sound, while the smaller one tugged on Otis’s ears and lips and looked up his nose (and generally made a nuisance of itself). Finally the alien sat back up but its head was still slightly tilted to the right and it looked a little out of it. “Those antenna things are really sensitive . . . “ Otis barely registered. 

He grabbed the dog-thing next and threw it at the alien. “Weeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee!” It screamed, grabbing at the air but the alien had dodged it on instinct and it flew several yards away before it slammed onto the ground and was still. The alien looked back at the Human and showed him an even more hate-filled stare than before and took off after his little companion. 

Surprised by this Otis again took off at top speed. He thought he recognized where he was and quickly turned left expecting to plunge deeper into the woods, however he was sadly mistaken and skidded right out of the trees and down the face of a cliff. He couldn’t stop himself and so started screaming as he slipped down the incline of sharp rocks that cut into his hands and back as he fell. 

The alien thing came flying out of the trees but it now had four very long spidery legs coming out of the shell on its back. It landed on the legs and skidded down the cliff face after Otis in a shower of sparks. It looked completely calm, even bored. It reached its hand out to the Human while they both rapidly approached the ledge. After that there was nothing but air until the hard ground at the bottom of the valley. Otis knew he was going to die one way or the other so he refused the Martian’s help. 

“Urgh!” It complained and just grabbed Otis’s shirt at the back. He suddenly stopped and then he was free-flying back up the incline, he landed roughly on his back with an “oof”; it had thrown him back up to safety. He was dazed but no longer feeling the need to run away. It could easily have killed him just now but obviously that wasn’t its intent . . . at least at this moment.

He sat up and looked to his left where the little dog thing was sitting, only now he saw that the yellow animal skin was a costume – a really bad one. Underneath it was a little electric man with one big, glowing blue eye but the other one was broken and black. Otis blinked when it waved at him and he sheepishly waved back. This situation was already ridiculous and he was pretty sure he was insane now so why not?

Otis heard some crunching sounds and turned back toward the cliff to see the alien guy easily climbing back up on his metal spider’s legs. When it reached level ground it dropped to its feet and the amazing limbs folded back up and retracted back into his shell. It kept its distance this time. Even though its eyes had no pupils Otis could tell it was looking back and forth between him and the metal man, probably concerned that Otis would hurt it again.

“Aaahh!” He screamed suddenly, not knowing what else to do. It’s antennae bounced when he said it and Otis couldn’t hold it in, he just burst out laughing. “HA! HAAAHAAAA! WHAHAA!” he yelled as loud as he could into the night, laughing harder and falling onto his back. The electronic man snickered to itself then exploded into its own insane fit of giggles. It just made Otis laugh that much more, then he promptly passed out.

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Otis awoke to the unpleasant sensation of being continuously, though gently, slapped in the face. He turned his head left and right, trying to avoid the annoying and persistent hand and maintain his grasp on unconsciousness but there was no way that was going to happen; the slapping became harder and more impatient. 

He opened his eyes and saw a green and pink blurry form above him. As his vision cleared the little Martian came into focus he remembered his situation and sat up rapidly, swaying a bit from lightheadedness. The creature put one of it’s hand on his shoulder as if to steady him.

“Okay.” Otis said, shrugging it’s hand off. He looked around but he saw nothing but darkness, although he could tell they were no longer outside. “Shit, what time is it?” He wondered, then noticed that he was lying on a long table but strangely wasn’t restrained. He then saw that in one of the alien’s three-fingered hands it held a small, black box like nothing he had never seen before. It had flashing lights on it and buttons and he wondered if it was a weapon.

“Okay.” The alien said into the device and waited for a few moments. Some red lights flashed on it then it spoke in a bizarre language. The alien nodded.

“Téÿşh irøt næȑt zõƏţčh, ŏkaÿ¿” It said, looking expectantly at Otis.

“Uhhh . . . ?” he replied.

“Mmm.” It hummed and shook its head. “Okay, uhhh?” it then repeated into its device, and waited again for a few seconds while it flashed. The black box spoke again in what sounded like a different alien language and the being made a thoughtful face.

“Okay, uhhh?” It said looking at Otis meaningfully, then it held out the box to him but Otis just leaned away. 

“Mmm!” It grunted, gesturing at him with the box in its hand again.

“Are you trying to get me to talk?” He asked and the alien’s antennae bounced, it pulled back the device almost greedily.

“Primitive language recognized; English.” It reported. It looked up at Otis and the confused Human just nodded his head, mouth hanging open a little bit. The alien also nodded back then pushed a green button on the box.“Download complete.” It said then shut off.

“Do you understand me now?” It asked in perfect English while a mechanical grappler came out from behind it’s back and took the small, black device back into its pod.

“Uh ya . . . “ Otis said quietly. “Are you going to kill me?” He hopped off of the table on the other side of the alien, putting it between them. 

“No.” It answered, watching him curiously. 

“What do you want me for?” He asked, stepping away. He realized he didn’t know where the exit is so he stopped, for all he knew he was headed in the opposite direction of freedom. 

“Research.” It answered simply.

“Did you use Bill for ‘research’?” Otis replied spitefully, feeling bolder now with the knowledge that he was wanted alive. 

“The other Human? Yes, I needed a scan of your complete anatomy.” It said casually, wiping some dirt off of its sleeve. “Go down.” 

Otis looked at the ground, confused by the command but then understood when the table sunk down into a hole until the top was flush with the floor. He had nowhere to hide now and he followed the alien’s every move distrustfully, turning as it circled him.

“You can relax; if I wanted you dead you would be dead.” As it said this its eyes narrowed and Otis believed it. 

“Are you going to let me go after you do your research?” Otis asked, still not dropping his guard.

“I’unno.” It mumbled, shrugging its shoulders indifferently. “Gir, come.” The little electric man zipped up to them and saluted. Both of it’s eyes were now fixed and glowing turquoise.

“Yes, my Master!” It said in a tinny voice. 

“Gir, I want you to –“

“Hey! You broke my eye.” Gir interrupted, fixing Otis with his best pouty mouth. “It was my favorite eye!” He held something up in it’s little fist. “See!”

“Uh yeah, sorry about that.” Otis said then pulled his handkerchief back out of his pocket to wipe his face with it. 

“Gir, get rid of that thing.” The alien said, shaking its head in disapproval. 

“My eye!!” Gir screamed, waving his hand in the air.

“That’s not your eye, it’s a snail!” The alien made the same gesture as the Human just had; he wiped his gloved hand slowly down his face. 

“Ohhh yeah.” Gir said and smiled, sticking his tongue out stupidly. It plopped down on his little metal butt with a clang and plopped the snail onto his eye.

“He’s a horrible minion, I know.” The alien admitted unnecessarily to the Human. “But I made him myself as a smeet and I just can’t deactivate him. He’s flawed, but he’s mine.”

“Aww, I love you too!” Gir said then lay onto his side and went to sleep. Well, his eyes turned black and he lay motionless, if that’s what classifies as ‘sleep’ for a robot. 

The snail started to slowly creep across the floor. A slick-looking gun popped up out of the alien’s pod and shot it into oblivion – only a black scorch mark on the floor remained. “Leave no evidence.” It muttered to itself.

“Anyhow.” It chirped, suddenly happily returning its attention to the Human in his presence. “State your name and rank.” And the questioning began.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

 

It was hours and hours and hours of questions about everything! About the planet, about technology, about economy, about populations, weapons and culture and definitions and just everything about everything! It was exhausting after only one hour but Otis knew it was at least 8 hours before he fell asleep from the constant questions. If this was all the alien needed for it’s ‘research’ though then he was happy to oblige, well maybe not happy but willing if it meant he didn’t need to be killed like Bill.

It was at least another 10 hours before he awoke again, on his back on the cold metal floor. He sat up and stretched his back stiffly before he suddenly remembered where he was again – and boy did he need to piss!

“Hey, where’s the bathroom?” Otis asked before turning around to locate his captor. He saw it sitting on the ground a little ways away, it was resting its head on its bent knees and just sitting there.

“Just go anywhere; doesn’t matter.” It replied.

“Uh . . . “ Otis really wanted to argue with that, it’s gross to just go wherever you were standing (well at least to Humans it is, maybe aliens don’t care?) but he didn’t have the time, if he didn’t go now he would soil his pants so he jogged a little ways until he found a corner – “this room is huge!” he thought to himself briefly - and did his business there.

He walked back, a little embarrassed but determined not to show it. “Are we done now?” He asked as he approached the smaller being.

“You can go.” It sort of answered, not looking up. Otis noticed that it’s shell wasn’t on its back but on the floor next to it. He also noticed that it wasn’t a shell – it was made of metal and what he had thought before were spots he saw were portals, that’s where its equipment he had seen so far was coming out. 

“Uh, go where now . . . ?” He said, looking around for an exit.

“Exit.” The alien said softly and a little elevator came down from the ceiling, door open and waiting. Otis had seen elevators before but nothing this small and sleek metal! It was much more technologically advanced than their large, creaky wooden ones!

Otis noticed that the alien’s voice sounded weak and that it still hadn’t moved. He looked around and didn’t see the little robot guy.

“Where’s Gir?” He asked for some reason.

“Gone.” The alien replied, looking up wearily. Its eyes were dull and its cheeks were hollow. “Self-destructed.”

“Why?” Otis wanted to know. 

“The Empire had no interest in your planet.” It said, glaring as much as it could at the Human as if it were his fault. “They are never coming for me. I only have 3 minutes myself. Everything else will go after me.”

“Everything else?” Otis looked around. Now that there was a doorway leading outside there was some sunlight streaming in. With it he could see some of the walls of the room. It just looked like a big, metal cube with nothing inside. “There’s nothing here.”

“Don’t you think I have a ship? A base? My PAK? You are stupid.” The alien said, putting its head back down on its knees. “No wonder the Empire has no interest in your species.” This last part was muffled and full of regret.

“2 minutes remaining.” A nice voice said out of nowhere.

Otis looked at the waiting elevator again. Obviously he was not in danger of being stopped or followed, his abductor appeared too weak to get up, even becoming too weak to talk. In a few minutes it would be gone and everything with it. “We can learn so much from it!” He thought. “The technology he had seen just from it’s shell (or PAK as it called it) is amazing! And if I could somehow find its ship and base – just imagine the possibilities!!!”

“What if you just . . . don’t self-destruct?” Otis asked but when he looked up he saw that it was slumped over onto the floor, eyes shut. He raced towards it and knelt down, examining the cold PAK with trembling fingers. “How do you open this -?” He said out loud and all three pink portals opened at once.

He peered in, hoping to memorize everything he saw but it was impossible – all he saw was a network of wires and parts of his folded up devices (a part of a spider’s leg, the curve of a grappler’s hook, the barrel of a gun – how did all of these things fit into it???) The wires almost looked like a brain in its configuration. There was nothing he could remember and then rebuild on his own, as was his hope. “1 minute remaining.” The voice said, which he now realized was coming from the PAK itself. 

“Uh, don’t self-destruct!” Otis said, panicking. 

“Command accepted; self-destruct aborted.” It said.

“What? That actually worked?” He marveled, holding the small PAK up in his hands – it was much heavier than it looked. 

“Yes, however death of Irken host is still eminent; 30 seconds remaining.”

“Ack, how do I stop that?” Otis asked, speaking very quickly.

“Replace PAK onto host.” It replied, calm as could be. “20 seconds remaining.”

“Okay!” Otis yelled, holding the PAK up to the two large holes on the alien’s back – where the PAK and living being interfaced. “Don’t let the little guy die, okay?”

“Okay.” The PAK said.

“But keep him asleep -!” Otis added quickly. 

“Until when?” The PAK asked. “10 seconds remaining.”

“Until I say!” Otis screamed and the PAK shot out thousands of tendrils that infiltrated the alien’s body through the two large holes. The body jerked wildly and Otis kicked it away, not sure what to expect – is it still going to explode??? He covered his face with his hands.

“Please create password to lock unit.” It said. “3 seconds remaining.” 

“Franklin DeFeo!” Otis yelled, squeezing his eyes shut and bracing himself. It was the only thing he could think of with such a short time – the name of his son.

“Connection complete. Unit offline.” The voice said. Otis slowly looked up – the alien was just lying on his side with a peaceful look on its face. Otis came over to it and put his hand on its PAK – the creature was breathing normally and its metal PAK was now warm. 

“Ring-a-ding-ding.” He said quietly to himself, smiling.

 

*Ha, I crack myself up again. Anyone else watch those ‘True Facts’ videos on Youtube by zefrank1? I especially like the cuttlefish and owl episodes. If you haven’t seen any, go watch right now.


	10. Chapter 10

Dib lay still with his eyes closed as his body slowly stopped twitching. That was the most amazing BJ he'd ever had and he was feeling groggy and tingly after his explosive orgasm. His brain wasn't able to think at the moment so he just waited for his racing heart to slow down. But the moment of tranquility didn't last long; Zim lapped up every last drop of Dib's cum, and he hadn't removed his finger from his Master's hole. In fact, at some point he had inserted another one and now two of his fingers were sliding in and out and twisting around a little bit, slowly stretching him.

Dib finally acknowledged that Zim wasn't finished; in fact he really hadn't even begun. "Tell him to stop." Dib's brain thought dazedly but he just kept quiet, arching his back a bit when Zim's fingers plunged in deeper then withdrew altogether. Zim grabbed Dib's legs and hoisted them up and out to the sides, exposing him completely. "Seriously, tell him no now. Please!"

"Please . . . " Was all Dib was able to get out before Zim began steadily pushing his cock inside of his ass. Dib tensed and curled up a bit to watch it enter his body. It was slightly thinner than his own dick but much, much longer, and ridged. He flinched a little as it popped through the right ring of muscle and continued to fill him deeper.

"Relax." Zim cooed, pushing further. "Breathe slowly."

"Ack, it's so long." Dib thought after his body had swallowed half of it and kept going. He was trying to do what Zim said but his breathing was hitching despite his efforts. Zim paused for a moment then. He knew that pain was a part of anal sex, especially the first time, and that it added to the pleasure for someone like Dib who he had now learned likes a little pain. He wanted to hurt Dib, but just a little bit – not to the point where he was uneasy or scared.

"Are you ok?" Zim asked, dropping his dominating façade a little bit to make sure his partner was still enjoying himself. No matter how fun it was to manipulate Dib's salacious body for his own pleasure and exert his superior strength over him he would never do anything against his Master's will. It was torture to do since he had not climaxed yet himself, but he had to ask: "Do you want me to stop?"

"No . . ." Dib whispered huskily. With his permission Zim didn't want to waste any time – he started rocking his hips and moving in and out of his beloved Master. Dib's eyes rolled back and he put his head back down with a sigh, rocking back and forth with Zim's thrusts.

Zim really wanted to just ram into his Human and fuck him into the floor but he couldn't overwhelm Dib on the first time – what if he hated it and wouldn't let him do it again? It had taken time to work his body up to this point of arousal and cooperation and he didn't want to ruin it. Right now it was obvious that Dib was enjoying these sensations so Zim didn't bury himself any more than halfway into Dib's tightness. He scratched his nails down Dib's torso, which had the Human grunting in pain, but then quickly leaned over and licked up the gashes. Pure Irken saliva had healing properties and the shallow wounds sizzled a little at first before closing up entirely, leaving behind nothing but red trails that will be gone in an hour or so. The new marks added to the ones from earlier in a pinstripe pattern that pleased Zim immensely.

"Oh, it feels so good when you do that." Dib moaned but Zim already knew that – Dib's endorphin levels were soaring now, but hearing the words said aloud made Zim's cock swell even bigger. Dib felt it grow inside him, rubbing at his walls even harder. "Yes, more." He grunted out.

Zim started to thrust at a more intense pace and Dib responded by moving his hips in unison. Caught up in the moment Zim leaned down and sucked hard on Dib's nipple again. Dib gasped and ripped Zim's shirt off. He then ran his own nails down Zim's back. Even though Dib's fingernails weren't as sharp as Zim's claws he still made some nice blue tracks in Zim's flawless green skin. Zim scratched and healed him again and again, sucking his skin and fucking him hard at the same time and Dib relished each delicious moment. "Ah fuck!" Dib screamed, his second orgasm imminent.

And then much too soon Zim pulled out and pumped himself with his hand, careful to release onto the floor and not onto his partner. Dib was so close, so agonizingly close, and then the source of his pleasure was gone. He blinked a few times in surprise but then his cock was engulfed again in something wet and hot; Zim had taken him back into his mouth. Dib was about to protest – he wanted that cock back inside of him – but he was driven to climax too quickly (and inelegantly), grunting and curling up onto himself again as he felt the cum being sucked right out of him and greedily swallowed by his Irken.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

"You came so much." Zim purred, lounging lazily next to his Master on the floor of the living room. "My little tummy is so full."

"Oh, that's gross." Dib thought but didn't say. "So I guess that's why you need to have sex so much? You live off of . . . that?"

"Yes, your fluids nourish me." Zim answered, happily nuzzling his head into his Humans neck; Dib's scent was strong here – like spices and soap and his own natural musk. Zim draped his lekku around Dib's neck and purred contentedly there. "You should have told me you enjoy rough nipple play – I have some nipple clamps and other toys you might like." Dib said nothing so Zim continued. "I will indulge you in any of your fantasies." He whispered.

Dib jerked a little from Zim's warm breath. He was still in a heightened state and the slight tickle of it had made his dick threaten to rise back to life. Instead he quickly fixed his pants and sat up, ignoring the unhappy look on his partner's face.

"I can't believe you just did that." Dib said throatily after several minutes of sitting still, staring at the shredded rags on the floor that not too long ago was his night shirt.

Zim laughed sweetly, now laying against Dib's back. He drew little circles and patterns on his shoulder with one of his still-gloved claws. "Mm-hmm?" He hummed.

"I told you before I didn't want to!" Dib continued.

Zim's smile faltered. "But you liked –?"

"I can't believe you . . . forced yourself on me!" Dib screamed, pulling away from Zim's embrace.

"Forced?!" Zim screeched, instantly offended and jumping to his feet to glower over the still sitting Human. "You wanted it!"

"I made it perfectly clear last night that I didn't want to do that with you!" Dib argued, not backing down. "And you just attacked me for no reason! You rapist!"

"Ra -?" Zim choked on the word; he was so shocked by such an accusation. "I didn't attack you, you asked for it!"

"Whaaaa?!" Dib uttered, too overwhelmed and angry to say anything more intelligent.

"You initiated my sex protocols." Zim said. He watched Dib's stupid face change from anger to shock then to confusion, and then to skepticism and then back to shock and then to - Zim rolled his eyes before pointing to his neck. "You pulled my collar!"

"That initiates your -?" Dib's voice trailed off and Zim nodded.

"Yes, along with a lot of other things that are LISTED IN THE MANUAL!" Zim's tone rubbed Dib the wrong way.

"Well you were about to go outside after I explicitly told you not to!" Dib countered.

"And why can't I go outside?!" Zim yelled. "I am perfectly capable of buying Girly Ranger cookies! I can also get the mail and get groceries –"

"No, none of those things!" Dib interrupted. "Don't go outside. Ever!"

Zim frowned. "Why?!" He demanded.

"Because I don't want anyone to know I have a . . . uh –" Dib used his hands to gesture at Zim, faltering for words in his current mindset.

"A sex toy?" Zim finished for him flatly.

"Well, ya . . ." Dib replied, looking away for a moment. True they were arguing but he still felt like a jerk saying it this way; however he was still so keyed up that he couldn't stop himself from making it worse. "That's what you are, right?"

Zim's shoulders sagged at that and his anger deflated. "I guess so." Zim said, dropping his eyes.

"Can we just -?" Dib stopped and closed his eyes to calm himself down. "Never mind." He shifted his weight to stand up. Immediately he flinched when a dull pain shot up his backside. "Ouch!" he complained. Zim silently offered his hand to Dib. The Human took it but didn't look up as he stood. He really did feel like a huge asshole so he supposed it was appropriate that his was sore now.

"I'm going to say this right now, Zim." Dib started, still not raising his eyes. "I do not want to have sex like that again." Dib closed his eyes, feeling like the biggest jerk ever. "And I don't want you using your freakish strength on me anymore either."

Dib reached down and gently tossed Zim's shirt to him. Zim caught it numbly. "And just . . . do what I say and stop arguing with me all the time, okay? This is my house you know."

Silence. "Please say something." Dib thought, waiting. He could hear Zim's breathing; it hadn't slowed since they started fighting. Obviously Zim was hurt and angry but at least he wasn't yelling anymore.

"Then I suggest you update my programming." He said, still holding his wadded up shirt.

"What do you mean?" Dib asked.

"Update your fetish." Zim continued, his voice oddly calm. "Change it to 'slavery'. Then you will have complete control over me, just like you want. Oh wait, what you want is to just throw me out with the trash."

"That's not what I want." Dib said pathetically, wiping his face with his hand. "Why can't you just -?"

"If you are not going to reprogram me or throw me out then may I clean the house?" Zim asked. "I am useful in other ways besides being a sex doll, even though you don't think so."

"Zim, can you just sit down somewhere be quiet?" Dib replied. "I need to think and I don't want to have to watch you constantly to keep you out of trouble."

Dib chanced a look up to Zim's face now but it was emotionless. Without a word zim pulled his shirt back on, then turned on his heel and went to his bed, curling up away from Dib.

Dib stood there for a moment – wanting to smooth things over but ultimately he decided to leave it be – what could he possibly say now? So instead, he stooped down to pick up the pieces of his shirt and his glasses, then went to the bathroom to clean himself up.


	11. Chapter 11

“Come on, Zim, drink it.” Dib pleaded to his Irken. Zim hadn’t moved from his bed since Dib had told him to ‘sit somewhere and be quiet’. He hadn’t even rolled over from facing the wall and he was looking very depressed. Dib knew he needed to eat; the manual said Irkens should be fed every week and it was already two days passed that since Zim had had his last ‘meal’. 

Dib put the small paper cup down on the floor in front of Zim’s face, looking away when Zim glanced inside and saw the creamy white substance. “It was really embarrassing getting that for you, I almost couldn’t do it.” Zim just closed his eyes. “Don’t make me order you, Zim, this is already awkward enough.”

Zim stayed as he was, curled up onto his side with his eyes closed and his breathing shallow but even. “This is ridiculous, Zim I order you to -!”

Just then the doorbell rang, interrupting Dib’s directive. He was going to ignore it when it immediately rang again. Then again and again – then several times in quick succession: ringringringringring!

“Okay!” he shouted, marching through his living room in his socked feet. He looked through the peephole then gasped when he saw who it was. “What the fuck?” He thought as he opened the door. Keef stood there with a manic smile on his face, still ringing the frigging bell even though Dib had just answered it. 

“Stop!” He said irritably. Keef stopped ringing the door and just stood quietly, still smiling. A few moments passed until Dib finally broke it. “Can I help you?” he asked as politely as he could manage, but he really, really didn’t like this guy showing up unannounced on his doorstep.

“I moved back home so I brought you something.” Keef answered, gesturing to his truck in Dib’s driveway with his arm. 

“Oh, so you moved back in with your parents?“ Dib asked, looking around for his shoes.

“No, I live alone.” Keef replied, grabbing Dib by the wrist and pulling him outside. Dib stepped gingerly on the cement towards the car, avoiding rocks and sticks as to not hurt his feet. 

“But didn’t you say –?” Dib started then stopped when he saw what was in the truck bed. “Keef, I don’t need a futon.” Dib looked at the frame and stiff mattress. “This isn’t even ours.”

“I know.” Keef smiled, jumping up into the cab to push the furniture out with his feet. 

Dib put his hands up against it and pushed back. “Keef, stop. Focus on what I am saying: I don’t need a futon, okay?” He said, wondering where this other one came from and why Keef was trying to give it to him now in the first place. “How did you get my address?” 

“Gaz.” Keef answered, hopping down from the truck. “Okay well if you don’t need this bed then you must have the other one all set up. Can I see it?” Keef ran back to Dib’s house without waiting for an answer. 

“Why? Wait!” Dib tried to grab the shorter boy as he ran by but missed, cursing his shoeless feet as he tried to run after him, stepping on painful rocks and a squishing into a slightly muddy spot on his lawn. “Shit.” He hissed when he got to the door and saw Keef in his living room just staring into the corner. He knew exactly what the ginger was looking at.

“Uh . . . “ Dib started, stripping off his dirty socks as he stepped in. He had no idea how to explain Zim to him.

“You have an Irken?” Keef breathed, his eyes wide with shock and curiosity. 

“Oh, you know about them?” Dib asked, surprised and blushing.

“Of course I know about them, I watch porn. You must be so rich!” Keef answered, stepping closer to Zim who was now sitting up on his mattress, regarding the Human emotionlessly. “Can I touch it?”

Zim raised a lip and growled. 

“I don’t think that’s such a good idea.” Dib warned, closing the door then coming over to pull Keef away but before he got there Keef knelt down in front of Zim, no fear on his face at all. He grabbed Zim’s left wrist and pushed the sleeve of his overly large shirt up, revealing a red, triangular tattoo on his shoulder: the iCy Inc. logo.

“I didn’t know that was there.” Dib thought to himself. “How could I have missed it?” he watched as Keef slid the other sleeve up just as gently to reveal a matching tattoo on Zim’s other shoulder. 

“It’s Model Z.” Keef said quietly, but loud enough for Dib to hear. “I didn’t know you were a perv.” Keef said with a lopsided grin, holding up the little cup he found on the ground – Zim hadn’t drunk the contents. 

“Don’t touch that!” Dib yelled, grabbing the cup from Keef and hiding it behind his back. 

Keef chuckled but then really looked at Zim’s face, gently touching the darkened, sunken-in skin under his eyes. Dib wondered why Zim was allowing this until Keef said: “He doesn’t look very healthy, Dib, are you feeding him?” 

Dib cleared his throat, feeling guilty when Keef looked up at him with real concern on his face, and accusation in his tone. “You know what they eat, right?”

“I’m trying to feed him, that’s why I gave him this.” Dib said, gesturing with the cup then becoming embarrassed again and hiding it behind his back once more. 

“It has to be fresh, Dib.” Keef instructed. “And he has to cum too, otherwise it won’t work. He can’t just drink cold jizz out of a cup, especially as bad off as he is – that won’t do him any good now.” 

“Well what am I supposed to do, then? He wouldn’t eat any of the doughnuts or soda I tried to give him! I didn’t know he was going to get like this!”

“He can’t live off Human food – you should know that! Why would you buy such an expensive pet and not take proper care of it?” Keef stated. Dib had never seen Keef look so serious before. “He’s gonna die, and soon by the looks of him.” 

“What?! No!” Dib said, running over to Zim and kneeling before him. He immediately started to run his free hand all over Zim’s face and head, for the first time realizing how cold and frail the Irken was. “Zim, why didn’t you tell me you were getting so sick?” he asked, looking into Zim’s cloudy eyes. Even in Zim’s weakened state he happily purred and leaned into Dib’s touch.

“I disgust you.” Was the answer. 

Dib frowned. “If he can’t eat this then how can I cure him?”

“The best way to ‘feed’ an Irken is to have him directly absorb it.” Keef answered. “It’s strongest that way - not broken down by the stomach acids.” 

“Absorb it? So, like, spread it all over him?” Dib asked, looking into the pathetically small amount of semen in his little paper cup. 

“No, I mean fuck him in the ass and cum inside.” Keef said calmly, as if that was the most acceptable (and obvious) answer he could give. Dib cringed at his crass choice of words. 

“Two or three times today should fix him right up.” Keef continued. “Then at least once a week and you won’t have a problem.” 

Dib’s eyes widened. “No way - I can't get away from doing that?” He thought to himself. “Well what do you know about Irkens, anyway? Do you have one?”

“Of course I don’t have one; I don’t have a couple hundred thousand dollars just lying around.” Keef answered. “But I’ve been saving up, hoping I could get one at a discount in a few years. Like a Grade B, hopefully, not a Grade C or D, amIright?” Keef winked knowingly at Dib who just smiled awkwardly. He couldn’t remember what the grades meant. “But this one probably cost over a million, right? They don’t make Zs anymore.” 

“I don’t know -“ Dib rubbed the back of his neck uncomfortably. 

“You don’t know how many millions of dollars you paid for him?” Keef said, again his dumb smile returning to his face. Dib was beginning to think that was his default expression no matter how he was feeling (and he is right). “How rich are you?” 

“I’m not rich!” Dib yelled. “And I don’t want anyone to know I have him so please don’t tell Gaz or anyone. And especially don’t tell Gaz!”

“Well you won’t have him much longer at all if you don’t properly feed him.” Keef evaded, lifting up Zim’s arm and then letting go of it, allowing it plop down to the ground without resistance. He picked the hand up again and this time just held it between his own, feeling the coldness of Zim’s skin through his elbow-high glove. Zim had run out of strength and slumped back down onto his mattress. “Poor thing.” He said, then stood up. “I can help him, though.” He said slyly.

“Really?” Dib perked up instantly, the implication of what the other man had said not registering yet. “How?”

“I’ll feed him for you.” Keef replied. “The right way. I mean, it looks like you don’t want to. Or can’t.” Keef briefly glanced down to Dib’s crotch.

“I can!” Dib yelled, covering himself with his hands, one of which was still holding the cup of cum. Then he became aware that he was holding the cup within view and tossed it into the trashcan by his desk from where he stood, luckily it made it in and didn’t splatter all over the floor. Dib wiped his hands on his pants uncomfortably. “But, yeah . . . maybe it would be better if you did. I mean YOU’RE gay, right?”

“Yeeeessss.” Keef replied slowly, not sure if Dib was going to insult him or something next. Obviously the man has issues with homosexuality. “Probably because he is attracted to men himself but is in denial about it.” Keef thought, eyeing Zim’s back as he lay at Keef’s feet.

“Do you promise you can fix him?” Dib asked. “Three times, like you said?” 

“Oh I can give him more than three meals.” Keef replied creepily, staring at Zim. “Give me an hour and he’ll be full for days.”

Zim looked up at Dib from the floor, his eyes imploring. “Master, no.” he rasped.

“Zim, Keef can feed you so you’ll get better.” Dib said. “I can’t take care of you that way.”

“You’re not going to give me away, are you?” Zim asked, his voice cracking. Dib cringed again. 

“Why does he always make me feel like the bad guy?” Dib thought. “No. I’m not giving him to you Keef, you know that right?”

“That’s fine with me, as long as I can come over and fuck him whenever I like – I mean whenever he needs it - I don’t need to take him home.” Keef was still just staring at Zim hungrily, he actually licked his lips. 

“There, see? It’s just once in a while.” Dib said, looking away and pretending he didn’t see that. Keef was really creeping him out and Zim’s face looked tragic. He felt really bad that Zim was going to have to endure being touched by this weirdo. And much more than that. “Why has my life come to this?” Dib thought to himself. 

“So can you, like, leave for a while?” Keef requested. “It’ll be really weird if you just stayed here while we . . . you know. Unless you want to watch?”

“No, I don’t really want to see that.” Dib quickly answered. “I’ll go run some errands.” Dib ran into his bedroom to get some new socks and while he was in there he saw his shoes too and brought them all out to the living room to put them on. When he came back in Keef had pulled Zim to his feet and was already fondling his back with one hand and his face with the other. 

“Oh, you can use my bedroom I guess. This is just a one-bedroom house.” Dib said lamely, the thought of them fucking in his bed upset him but it was better than just doing it on the living room floor – or on his couch or wherever they may end up. “Just don’t go under the covers, ok? And try to not make a mess.”

Keef understood what Dib was implying. “No problem. We won’t waste one drop.” Keef said, bringing his face close to Zim’s for a kiss, but Zim pushed the Human away. Even in his sickened state he was still much stronger. Keef stumbled but kept his footing. 

“You’re going to have to order him to obey me.” Keef said, reaching out for Zim’s chin again but the Irken turned his head away sharply.

“Zim, do what Keef says.” Dib ordered, not looking away from his shoes – which he was putting on as fast as he could.

“But -!” Zim was cut off when Keef grabbed his face, digging his fingers into his hollow cheeks. Zim looked towards Dib again, hoping against hope that he would stop this but all he saw was his Human sprint out the door and slam it shut on them.


	12. Chapter 12

"All right now, I've done a lot of research on you and I know exactly what I want." Keef started. "PAK, set my gender to 'male' and my preferences to 'seme'." He instructed, pacing back and forth in front of Zim slowly. "What is the current fetish setting?"

"Current fetish setting is BDSM." Zim's PAK answered in its deep male voice.

"Nice, we'll start with that – since we're kind of already set up for it."

Keef smiled at Zim who was currently on his knees in the middle of the bedroom floor, restrained in some leather straps that came with him. The straps crisscrossed up his torso and he had a leather mask on that covered the entire bottom half of his face, one strap running over the top of his head and two along his jaws on either side like a muzzle. His hands were bound and pulled painfully above his head, wrists clasped to his collar in the back. There were also several straps around his limbs that were connected to hooks that the deliveryman had put into the floor and walls (the ones Zim hadn't pulled out on his first day there) and one that was connected to his collar that was holding him up from the ceiling. Even though that strap was partially strangling him it was necessary as the feeble Irken didn't have enough energy to hold himself up straight – it was taking all of his power to glower hatefully at Keef.

"Don't worry; we'll have plenty of time to enjoy all of your fetishes." Keef said, sitting on the bed to remove his clothes slowly, starting with his socks and shoes. "As long as Dib doesn't know that he can sustain you orally if he does it every few days then I'll be coming over once a week to 'feed' you with your other mouth." He moved on to his pants, undoing the fly and slipping them off. Zim blinked disapprovingly at his baggy tighty whities. "And you will not tell him that."

Keef took off his shirt and his underwear last. Zim wanted to gag at the bushy orange pubic hair that was mostly concealing the skinniest dick he'd ever seen. Keef grabbed Zim's chin and put his face very close to the Irkens. "Your Master is a fool. He obviously hasn't thoroughly read the manual. And, I mean, he doesn't even know me – the things I'm going to do to you . . ."

In one valiant effort Zim wrenched his head backwards from Keef's grasp, panting in exertion after the difficult feat.

"Hmm." Keef hummed in amusement. "Anyhow, I don't care whatever name Dib gave you; to me you will answer to 'Slave' or 'Pet'. Also, you will never tell Dib what I say or what we do during these feeding sessions. No matter what he asks, you will only tell him you loved every minute of it."

Zim shook his head loosely and then instructed his PAK to speak for him: "I cannot lie to my Master."

"Hmm, I don't think that's really a rule." Keef said. "What about role playing? Wouldn't that technically be considered lying?"

Zim closed his eyes. "Damnit." He thought.

"Okay, so under the setting 'role playing' you will tell Dib you 'love every minute of our time together and can't wait until we do it again' and nothing else about it."

"Setting saved." The PAK responded.

"Oh, I also want all this under my own account that Dib will never be able to access. All of the program changes I make will be saved there, protected by my own password."

"Yes, Sir." The PAK answered. "Account created, please name it and set password."

"Name: Keef Sutherland, password: 1448_95A789028,937008ss9122334235H222A5T2."

Zim's eyes went wide. "What?!" He thought "How could he even remember all of those numbers? There is definitely no way Dib or anyone else was ever going to be able to figure that out." Zim slouched, allowing the strap above him to cut off his airway – he didn't care. "This is really going to happen." He thought. "Master, how could you?"

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Dib was at the grocery store. He ambled slowly down each aisle, even though he really didn't need very many things there – he was just stalling. He pulled down a can of corn and stared at it, not even reading the label. He was distracted worrying about Zim.

"Did I do the right thing?" He mumbled to himself. "I was just so eager to get him well and I didn't really have time to think. It was my fault he's sick in the first place . . . it was the only option I had, right?" An old lady a few feet down from him in the same aisle saw him talking to a can and turned away, deciding to go down a different aisle.

"I can't tell anyone else about him – Keef wasn't supposed to know either but that just kind of happened on accident." At the time he had felt that his decision was the best one but now he wasn't so sure. "Keef is really creepy, Zim must be so grossed out by him . . . and I ordered him to obey that guy. How could I do that to him?!"

Suddenly Dib had a bad feeling in his gut and ran out of the store to his car. He just left his basket of groceries in the middle of the aisle. "Maybe they haven't started yet; it's only been a few minutes, right? I can still stop it if I hurry!"

Dib sped down the streets back to his house, making it there in record time. Without even setting the emergency brake he flew out of his car and back into his house. He busted through the door as if he were running from a tornado only to see Keef sitting peacefully on his couch, eating something out of a bowl.

"You didn't do it?" Dib asked, relief flooding through his body.

"Yeah we're done, your Irken's all better now. See?" He pointed to the kitchen table with his fork, chewing loudly.

Dib looked over to see Zim sitting in a chair at the table. He was wearing a shirt that Dib had never seen before: a long-sleeved pink one with thin black horizontal stripes and high collar and his usual tight black pants, gloves and boots. When he saw Dib he immediately looked away, ashamed. Dib checked the clock on his desk and saw that it was actually much later than he had thought it was. "I must have been zoned out for a while – it has been over an hour since I left. I'm such an idiot." Dib thought, however he could appreciate how green and healthy Zim's skin looked, even though the smaller male still wasn't looking at him in the face.

"Your pet makes awesome meatballs." Keef said, holding up a chunk of meat covered in a red sauce impaled on his fork.

"Oh, he does?" Dib asked dubiously. Whatever Zim had cooked for him over a week ago was nauseating.

Keef held the bowl up to Dib who carefully looked in. He flicked his eyes quickly to look at Zim, who immediately turned away again. Dib sighed, gently using his fingers to pluck a meatball out. He popped it in his mouth and waited for the disgusting flavor to flood his mouth as he chewed but it didn't happen. Keef was right, it was delicious.

"Oh wow, this is really good." Dib said more interested now in the food.

"I know!" Keef agreed. "Can I borrow him the next time I have a party?"

Dib chose to ignore that. "Zim, if you can cook this good then what as that gross stuff you cooked for me last time?" Dib asked, walking over to Zim and deliberately put his hand gently on Zim's shoulder. He fought to keep the smile on his face when Zim flinched at his touch.

"Pumpkin stew." Zim answered quietly.

"Oh, I hate pumpkin that's why I didn't like it. You really can cook." Dib informed him. Zim turned his head to Dib and stared him in the eyes, Dib just smiled and held his gaze. Seeing Dib wasn't lying Zim gave a little smile himself at the compliment. "Where did you even get it?"

"It was on your refrigerator." Zim answered.

"Oh, that was for Halloween!" Dib laughed. "I was going to carve it but I forgot!"

"Oh, sorry." Zim replied, laughing uncertainly along with his Master.

Dib rubbed a circle on Zim's back, trying in some small way to apologize for what he had done (or what he had failed to do).

"Well, I'm out." Keef said, putting his dirty bowl on the coffee table and just leaving it there. "See you next Tuesday." He yelled back over his shoulder as he walked out of the house.

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"Um, so Zim do you . . . want to go to bed with me tonight? I mean sleep with me . . . in my bed?" Dib called from his room, fumbling over his words. "Just to sleep."

Zim perked up from where he was sitting in the corner again. "Really?" he asked, standing up and immediately rushing over to Dib's room but he lingered in the doorway. Dib had already put on his night clothes and had gotten under his covers. He patted the other side of the mattress and Zim hurriedly jumped over to it and burrowed in.

"Yeah, I mean it must have been weird to be with Keef like that." Dib said, putting his arm around Zim and pulling him into a tight hug. The Irken froze, not wanting to give his Master any reason to pull away. "I was thinking that maybe you would like some comforting or something. I dunno, was it weird?"

Zim kept his mouth closed for he knew that the only answer he could give was that he loved it. Dib didn't need a verbal answer, though, right? Zim cuddled against Dib's body, slowly snaking his own arm around the Human's middle and then buried his face in Dib's neck, deeply breathing in his scent. He was very content, in fact he was euphoric, and he didn't want to ruin it with words.

"I can tell Keef that the deal is off if you didn't like it. I mean, I was only trying to help you - you were so sick and I got scared –"

"I loved every minute of our time together!" Zim blurted out then slapped his hand over his mouth, pulling away from his Human's warm embrace. That is NOT what he had meant to say but somewhere between the thought (which was "I hated it") and his mouth his PAK had interrupted the signal and made him say what he was programmed to say in this instance.

"Really?" Dib asked, looking relieved.

Zim tried to shake his head in negation but his PAK wouldn't allow it; his neck muscles clamped up. "I can't wait until we do it again." He said through his fingers. Dib didn't even seem to notice that Zim's behavior and expression weren't matching what he was saying, he was just so eager to be absolved.

"Oh thank God." Dib said, relaxing into his soft mattress. "I was afraid that you were disgusted by Keef and would be upset with me for letting him feed you. I'm so glad you are okay with him doing this every week."

Zim's eyes went wide. "NO!" He tried to scream, tried to shake his head, tried to do anything that would put back the doubt in Dib's mind but it was no use – his PAK was unyielding and he did nothing but lie back down in the bed and nestle up to his Master's side again.

Feeling satisfied with this resolution Dib fell into a peaceful sleep.

Zim, however, was not so quick to relax. Irkens don't require sleep; however they can do it in their own way when desired: they put their PAKs on 'idle mode' and just kind of turn off until the programmed time when they restart. Irkens also aren't supposed to be able to cry but one of Zim's deep, dark secrets was that he could do this behavior if he was sad enough. Well this is the first time he'd been sad enough to do it in decades and he allowed the tears to flow for as long as they wanted before he finally did put his PAK into idle mode and 'slept' as close as he could get to his beloved Master.


	13. Chapter 13

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Otis was slowly walking through the thick underbrush of the old forest. He followed the path he had forged years ago when he used to actively poach these grounds – lost in his memories of a time long past. Suddenly he staggered and leaned up against a tree, coughing for at least thirty seconds into his handkerchief. He hocked up a good sized loogie and spat it onto the ground; it had blood in it. He quickly returned his hankie to the back pocket of his expensive Gabardine slacks and kicked dirt over the evidence. Lately he'd been coughing like this a lot and sometimes, like now, he even became short of breath from it. He knew he could no longer avoid going to the doctor but he was terrified of what they might find. He had been smoking since a young age, just 13, and had always grown up hearing that it was healthy but now research is showing that they may actually be the cause of a lot of illnesses, including lung cancer. What if -?

He stopped that train of thought and held his hand up to shade his eyes from the sun, pretending to get his bearings. What he really needed was to rest for a little bit. He makes this trek through these woods very rarely nowadays because every time it gets harder and harder. However this time he had a companion – his son Franklin DeFeo.

His boy had just turned 18 a few days ago and Otis had decided to let him in on the family secret. It was a little earlier than he had wanted to share this information with him – he had wanted to wait until his son was at least 25 years old, maybe 30, however Frank had recently expressed an interest in going to college to be a lawyer and Otis didn't think he could hold out another 8 years of schooling with his failing health. University and then Law school would not allow any time for his son to learn how to continue with Otis's work into the future. And his work must be continued.

"Why are you stopping again?" His son asked, irritated at his father for dragging him out into the damn woods to walk slowly for hours and hours in the hot sun. Frank hated being outside and getting dirty; having grown up filthy rich and wanting for nothing had left him quite entitled and snobbish. He clicked his tongue at his $600 leather Gucci loafers when he saw that the toes were getting scuffed. "My shoes are dirty and I am getting blisters, where are we going anyway?" He asked.

"You'll see." Otis replied, feeling a little bit of déjà vu; trekking through this same forest a long time ago with a different complaining companion. "As you know I haven't been feeling well for a while now and – " Frank turned around and started heading back to the car, no fucks given.

"It's about your inheritance!" Otis yelled to him hoarsely. With that news Frank perked right up.

"Well then let's keep going! Which way?" He said, pulling his winded father up by his arm. Otis coughed again behind his hand and pointed south.

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"Stop, we're here." Otis rasped out. He was wheezing like mad from being dragged the last 40 minutes by his son to the spot where it had all begun.

Frank let go of his father's arm and looked around in a circle. He peered back at his ailing father, who was bent over, hacking up more phlegm, and turned around again – searching for something, anything.

"Are you crazy? There's nothing here!" Frank yelled, frowning at his father as his voice's echo died. Otis held up his hand in a placating manner, clearing his throat loudly before standing up straight, panting heavily. "Is this a joke?" Frank said.

"Move aside, you're standing on it." Otis said.

Frank looked down where he was standing and saw nothing. "Dirt?"

Otis just made a flapping gesture with his hands for Frank to move, who did so slowly. Frank unwrapped a stick of gum and popped it in his mouth, chewing loudly. Otis smiled despite his burning lungs.

"Elevator." He said and immediately the small metal chamber shot up from the ground where Frank had been standing a few seconds ago. Frank's eyes widened at the sight of it.

"Wow." Frank said, walking around it. "It's just like a smaller version of the one you designed for our penthouse – except I don't see any buttons."

"This one answers to words." Otis said, stepping inside and holding out his hand for his son to join him. Frank walked in skeptically.

"Why doesn't ours then?" Frank asked, uncomfortable being so close to his father but the elevator was quick; dropping them into the underground metal room Otis had found himself in 13 years ago.

"I haven't quite figured out how to do that yet." Otis said.

"What?" Frank asked. "That doesn't make sense, if you did it here then why not - ?"

"Computer, lights." Otis interrupted.

The metal room was illuminated in an instant (most of it – there was a spot in the far corner that the light wasn't penetrating). Frank looked around for any light fixtures but saw none. "Hmmm." He hummed, a little weirded out by this place.

"Come here." Otis said, scampering off to one side of the large room that had long shelves running its entire length. On it were hundreds of inventions that Otis had made over the last decade; some successes and some failures: silly putty, a slinky, a small color TV with the beginnings of a video game console plugged into it. There were also things that looked like parts of small hand-held electronics that Frank wasn't familiar with. "This is my life's work." Otis said, smiling proudly.

"So what?" Frank answered, looking bored. Otis wilted a little bit at his indifference.

"These are things that I've made – they have paid for everything. Our house, food, our servants . . ."

"Yeah, good for you. Can we go home?" Frank answered, turning away.

"They paid for your school, your clothes, your car! Everything! Before this we were so piss poor that we had one foot out on the street!" Otis continued, trying to make Frank understand the importance of what he was showing him.

"I know you're a toy maker, Dad." Frank said, wiping some dust off of his jacket with his hand. "That's great for you but I don't want to make toys, I want to have a real job."

"Come over here." Otis instructed with a sly smile and ambled over to the other side of the room. Frank rolled his eyes then picked up the slinky and started playing with it, following his father unenthusiastically.

"Dad, I don't want to take over your business. I already told you." He tried again, hoping to get through to the persistent old man.

Otis was down at the far corner that was completely black. "Come on, come on." He encouraged his son, his voice sounded very flat to Frank's ears. Frank strained his eyes as they approached a table with a white sheet over it. The bumps on it made it look as if it were covering a body - a small one. There were wires coming out from under the sheet that were plugged into some ports on the wall with flashing lights and strange buttons. When he stopped next to his father he could hear a faint, regular beeping – like a heartbeat almost.

Frank shifted his feet a little, dropping the slinky to the floor. "Is that a person under there, Dad?"

"Not really." Otis replied. "Don't worry about that, what I want to show you is this." Otis punched in some kind of code onto the buttons. A large portion of the wall then shifted back to reveal hundreds of guns, ammunition and other weapons hanging on racks and hooks all down the wall. "Toys are fun and all and they made my company famous but they are a cover. This . . . " Otis gestured to the wall with his arm. "Is what made us really rich."

Frank inspected the wall of weapons silently, ignoring his father's stupid smirk as he did so. There were several rifles, pistols, hand guns, machine guns, bombs and mines that he recognized, but then there were several types he didn't. Some were long and sleek, others so small they could easily fit into the palm of his hand. "What is all this?"

"Wars can be won and lost based on the technology of the weaponries." Otis said easily. "I sell to the highest bidder –"

"Whoa." Frank couldn't help but mutter, running his fingers along the more futuristic-looking guns. He pulled a particularly thin one off of the wall and looked it over. "Where does the ammunition go?"

"It shoots lasers." Otis answered, gingerly taking the weapon from his son and placing it back on the wall. "But the handle gets really hot - still working on it."

"What's a laser?" Frank asked.

"Something people have been working on for years but haven't been able to figure out. You may not be able to hold it yet when shooting but this gun destroys everything in its path for miles! Think of the damage it could do to a living body! I just have to perfect the superconducting alloy and it'll be ready for testing -" for a moment Frank's father looked a little crazy, then he turned and walked away into the deepest part of the darkened corner to retrieve something else. Frank looked back up to the wall of devastation for a moment then followed.

"I didn't know you make things like this too." Frank said. "I thought it was just toys and stuff."

"Of course you thought that, that's what I want everyone to think." Otis pushed a button on the wall and a small port opened. He squatted down and grabbed something, it made a metallic scraping sound as he scooped it up. "What do you think would happen if the government found out I am selling space-age technology to our enemies?"

"Space-age." Frank repeated with a snort.

"Yes, space-age." Otis said, holding up a small, oval pod with pink spots on it. "Literally." He dumped it into Frank's arms, it was heavier than it looked, and strangely warm to the touch.

"Just wait until you see this!" Otis pressed the largest port on the top of the metal pod and all three pink portals lit up then opened at once. He immediately bent over and started coughing again while Frank peered inside. He may not be interested in mechanical engineering but he definitely wanted to know what was so special about this thing.

"This is what started it." Otis rasped, tucking his handkerchief into his pocket again after his coughing fit had ebbed.

Frank looked through the round ports at the machinery inside. Again when he saw the wiring it reminded him of a brain just as it had for Otis when he had first seen it. There were also some wires coming out of the bottom of it leading back to the computer ports on the wall. Frank touched them gently.

"All of this stuff came out of that little PAK you're holding." Otis swatted Frank's hand away from the wires, then pointed to part of the wall that had some of the strangest stuff hanging off of it that Frank hadn't even seen yet. Missiles and rockets and grappling hooks and strange cables and what looked like 4 long, metal poles, only to name a few. "And there's still so much left! What I really want to do is learn how to recreate that electronic brain – I'm talking about AI, Franky."

"What is that?" Frank asked, now very interested in this little pod.

"Artificial Intelligence; conscious machines!" Frank didn't look as excited as Otis thought he should. "Advanced computers that think and feel. It's creating life out of metal and plastic! I've been working on it since I've found this PAK and I'm so close."

Frank scowled again. "That's impossible . . ."

"No, it's not. It already exists!" Otis said, now really looking insane. "Computer, say hello to my son."

"I don't wanna!" A new voice replied.

Frank looked over his shoulder, laughing a little. "Ok, this has gone far enough!" He stood up and started frantically scanning all of Otis's inventions, looking for the reel-to-reel recorder that must have been playing back this new voice – he knew that no one else was here . . . except -

He ran to the table, intending to grab the sheet and expose his father's accomplice – he knew this must be a joke. However when he was just about close enough to reach it he ran into something solid and bounced off heavily. It happened too quickly for Otis to warn him and when he finally got himself up and turned around his son was on his back halfway across the room, staring straight up dazedly.

"What happened?" Frank asked, shaking his head and slowly sitting up. Otis came over to help his son stand. Frank dusted his pants off angrily and approached the mysterious table again, much more carefully this time.

"You hit the force field." Otis answered, still wiping the dirt off of his son's back.

"You could have warned me." Frank said, rubbing his right elbow a little bit. He spat his gum out onto the floor in annoyance. "Who's under that sheet?"

Otis sighed deeply; he hadn't meant to show Frank this on this first visit but his plans had already been wrecked so it was just as well that Frank finds out about it now.

"Computer, force field down." Otis said and walked up to the bed when the force field winked off. Frank walked up to the other side slowly. Otis pulled the blanket halfway off of the table.

Frank stared at it for a while, not quite understanding what he was seeing. Once he was past his initial reaction of shock his eyes began to rake all over the being's unusual (unhuman) features: smooth green head, two antennae that were draped over the head of the table, no nose or ears, large eyes that were currently closed. He noted the chest rising and falling almost imperceptibly as the thing breathed.

"Is it alive?" He finally managed.

"It's alive." Otis said, slowly coming to stand beside his son and watch the little humanoid 'sleeping'. It looked so peaceful, accompanied by the constant soft beeping of its monitored heartbeat.

"What is it?" Frank asked, reaching his hand out as if to touch it but he hesitated then brought it back in, thinking better of it. "Where did it come from?"

"It's an alien." Otis answered bluntly. "I'm pretty sure. I don't know where it came from but it said it had a ship and a base out there somewhere. Never been able to find 'em, though."

"It talks?" Frank wanted to clarify.

"It did once, yeah, a long time ago. It's been asleep though for . . . uhh almost 15 years now? Is that right, Computer?" Otis said to the ceiling.

"Thirteen years, four months and six days." The air answered. Otis just shrugged.

"That's not an audio recording, is it?" Frank asked somberly. Otis shook his head, looking back down at the being almost possessively.

Seeing that the being on the table was definitely not the one speaking and there was obviously no one else in the room they were in Frank was forced to believe some kind of invisible artificial intelligent machine was talking to his father. That means all of what Otis had told him down here is true – he's found some kind of alien intelligence and had somehow managed to imprison it in this underground bunker. Over the past 13 years, 4 months and six days he has been learning what he could from the technology he has gotten his hands on through reverse engineering, including some very advanced weapons and computer software, and made himself rich with it. Now he was giving his treasure to his only son. "Groovy." Frank said quietly to himself, smiling wickedly.


	14. Chapter 14

Short chapter – things are gonna get more intense from here (remember the fetish list)

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Dib didn't want to wake up but he couldn't help it - he was feeling quite hot and sweaty. He took a deep breath but it was stifled and after a few uncomfortable moments of laziness he realized he was completely wrapped up in his blanket, head to toe. He opened his eyes and tried to push the blanket down for some air. Immediately he heard a grumble and the blanket was grabbed and thrown back over top of him. That's when he remembered that Zim was sleeping in his bed with him again, currently tightly wrapped around his torso. Dib pushed the blanket back down, this time successfully, and exposed his grumpy, squinting bedmate to the light of day. He chuckled and grabbed his glasses from the nightstand, then sighed when he noticed the time on his clock: 1:37 PM.

"Zim, why did you turn off my alarm clock again? I was supposed to get up early today."

"Mine." Zim grunted in answer, hugging Dib closer possessively.

Dib was annoyed by Zim's selfish behavior; it wasn't the first time Zim had foiled his attempts at rising early, but he couldn't find it in himself to get angry at the little guy – he just wanted as many cuddles as he could get and had no qualms about sabotaging his Master's plans to get them. Dib had been surprised that ever since Tuesday night when he had allowed him into his bed to sleep that Zim had turned out to be such a snuggle bunny; as soon as Dib was in bed Zim was attached to him for the rest of the night. This death grip was also frequently accompanied by purring and nuzzling, and sometimes Zim would playfully nibble at Dib's shoulders and chest. At first it kind of embarrassed Dib to be treated so tenderly (he wasn't used to it) and he tried to tell Zim to stop, however before he could even finish the sentence he saw the insecurity and sadness threatening to invade Zim's eyes again and decided to just allow it – there was no one there to see anyway and it made his little friend happy. And it was kind of . . . cute.

The first two nights Zim had actually crawled underneath Dib's shirt so last night he had the bright idea to sleep without one. Looks like no matter what Zim will somehow find a way to wrap himself up for the night – hence the comforter cocoon Dib was now untangling himself from. Dib got out of bed, stretching his arms and back languidly, then headed for the bathroom. Zim pouted but followed anyway.

Zim gave his Master a few moments of privacy to relieve himself then stood behind Dib who was standing in front of the sink. Dib squirted toothpaste onto his brush and put it into his mouth.

"Would you like me to brush your teeth for you?" Zim asked enthusiastically.

Dib blinked. "No, thanks. I'm good." He replied around his the brush, then started brushing them himself.

Zim watched his Master for a few moments, feeling a little miffed, then he tried something else. "Would you like me to give you a shave?"

Dib rinsed his mouth out. "No, I can manage it." He said, picking up his shaving cream and squirting it onto his hands. He watched Zim through the mirror.

"How about a massage - ?" Zim put his hands on Dib's shoulders.

"Zim!" Dib interrupted. "You don't have to wait on me hand and foot!"

Zim had been like this for the past two days. Now that Dib had opened up enough to allow him to sleep in his bed Zim was terrified that if he did anything that displeased his Master he would rescind that privilege. However his Master never told him what he could do for him that would make his life easier, he just did everything himself, to Zim's distress. Now even asking what he could do seemed to be making his Human angry with him again. "I can't win." Zim thought and braced himself for a scolding.

Dib noticed the change in Zim's facial expression and understood a little what he must be thinking. "Could you clean up my room a bit?" He said quietly. Zim immediately broke out in a huge, beaming smile. He nodded vigorously, lekku swaying in the air, and ran to the bedroom. "And maybe then make breakfast . . . or lunch I guess?" Dib called after him.

"Yes!" Zim called back happily from the room down the hall. Dib could hear the rustling of the sheets as Zim set about making the bed. He smiled to himself as he shaved his face, happy that he had made some progress in learning how to positively interact with his accidental housemate.

It didn't take long for Zim to finish tidying up the bedroom and just as Dib was stepping into the shower he heard the pitter patter of tiny Irken feet run into the kitchen. Dib grinned and started washing himself, thinking that it had been a long time since he had smiled so much. But as long as Zim wasn't pissed off he was quite adorable and eager to please. Just a small pat on the head or a word of praise from Dib and Zim would be content for hours, frequently happy to just watch Dib go about his day and offer to help whenever he could. Seeing his little friend so happy made Dib feel happy too.

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Just like all of the meals Zim had made for Dib this lunch was not appetizing to look at, but tasted quite good. Dib figured that since Zim never eats he probably doesn't think about how food should look, so he decided to get Zim a cook book with pictures of nice plating and garnishes. He put that thought in the back of his mind for now and picked up his cell phone to check his messages.

Zim finished wiping down the kitchen and putting everything away just how he liked it. He saw his Master sitting on the couch, focused on his phone, and went to sit on the floor next to his leg. "Zim, you don't have to sit on the floor like a dog. You can sit on the couch next to me."

Zim did so, laying his head down in Dib's lap. Dib rolled his eyes but then started absently petted Zim's lekku while he listened to a voice mail left by his boss. Suddenly a loud thump outside his door startled them both. It was followed a second later by a single ring of the doorbell. "Looks like we just got a package." Dib said, leaning back in the couch to peer at his doorstep through the window. "Want to get it?"

Zim jumped up immediately and hurried over to the door. He carefully opened it and looked around to see if anyone was outside. Seeing no one at the moment he picked up the large box easily and brought it in, setting it down on the coffee table. Dib noticed how twitchy and excited Zim's lekku were as his curiosity was piqued. Zim ran his claws down the taped seams and ripped the box open.

Ring! Dib's phone rang out.

Zim peered into the box and frowned, looking up at Dib inquiringly.

Dib also frowned when he saw who was calling him. "Hello, Keef." Dib looked at the box's contents and raised an eyebrow at what he saw.

"Did you get my package?" Keef asked in his sing-song, nasally voice.

"Yeah, just now." He answered, picking up one of the many smaller boxes that were jammed tightly into it. He turned it over in his hand, looking for a label or something to read but all he saw was that stupid iCy Inc. logo all over it. "What is this?"

"Irken Chow." Keef replied, sounding quite happy with himself. "It's for our pet."

"Why?" Dib wanted to know, deciding to ignore the 'our pet' comment. Dib shrugged his shoulders at Zim's pointed glare.

"Make him eat three boxes a day, ok?" Keef continued as if he hadn't even heard Dib's question. "I'll be coming over after dinner tomorrow."

"Wait, no. We agreed on Tuesdays." Dib protested.

"Tuesday is a weird time of the week." Keef replied. "You know, it's a workday – the weekend is better for me."

It didn't really matter to Dib what day of the week it was since he doesn't have an office job, but he still didn't like the idea of Keef just deciding by himself when he would come over to his house. But he had no real reason to refuse. "Okay tomorrow's fine. But Keef, Zim hates this stuff. And even if he didn't I don't think he can eat three boxes; there's a lot in these." Dib dropped the smaller box back into the larger one and Zim quickly closed the flaps back up.

"Well he could eat the equivalent amount of doughnuts and waffles if he doesn't like it, but the chow is healthier. The point is I want to build up his strength."

"Why?" Dib asked again. "He's already freakishly strong!"

"No, I mean his endurance." Keef replied. After a few moments of silence Keef was forced to elaborate: "Your pet said he wants me to explore all of his fetishes and some of them are quite intense, as you know. I want to make sure he is well nourished so he won't get dizzy or anything, that's all."

"Oh." Dib replied, looking at Zim who was trying to stare a hate-hole into the side of the box. "What do you plan on doing to him?"

"Nothing bad." Keef countered. "I'm just looking out for him, but if you don't care about his health then I guess you can just throw it all away -"

"I care!" Dib yelled. Zim jumped a little in surprise when Dib put his hand over his (which were still resting on the box) and squeezed a little. "Of course I care! But I don't want you doing anything that would hurt him!" Zim's lekku bounced at this.

"I'm not, it's just that last time when he was strapped to the bed and I was really going at it, I mean just slamming into him balls deep and tearing into his tight, sweet ass, he was moaning and begging for more so much that got a little light-headed –"

"Ah, stop!" Dib definitely did not want to picture a naked, sweaty Keef panting and grunting and . . . thrusting, though he knew that now it would be impossible for him not to imagine it. Yep, there it is.

"Okay, okay. Zim, I want you to eat three meals a day. For now just eat some of the chow." Dib waved his hand over the box and ignored the Irken's indignant huff. "I'll get some frozen waffles at the store later." Keef sneered in victory, thankful that Dib was so easy to manipulate.

"See you both tomorrow." Keef said happily and hung up.


	15. Chapter 15

Keef logged onto his Tor browser which hooked him up to the web anonymously. He next logged on to the new website he had made the other day. He giggled then read the words on the site to himself in his dark, empty apartment.

“Welcome to the Red Room, where you get what you pay for.” It announced in large, red letters at the top of his screen. Then in smaller font below it, “Breaking an Irken.” The wallpaper for the site was the iCy Inc. logo in reverse gay pride rainbow colors dripping with blood – classy. 

“Scene 1: Saturday night at 8:00 PM PCT; theme is food.”

He scrolled down to look at his site meter to see how many people had visited so far. He was very happy to see that there was some interest – 14 people had viewed the page and already 3 had become members. Pulling up his Bitcoin Wallet next Keef saw they had already paid their fees. Those same 3 users, along with a few unregistered ‘anons’ were on the site now, patiently chatting with each other both on Chat Box and some with their own microphones. Keef smiled at the strange, electronically-altered voices that were murmuring quietly to each other.

“Today’s scene will begin in exactly 30 min – if you are not registered and logged in at that time you will be locked out until next week.” Keef typed. He pulled on his jacket and picked up the box he had packed special for tonight, tucking it under his left arm. He finished typing with his right hand: “Just a reminder that this is man on male Irken action, if that’s not what you’re looking for then you are in the wrong place.” He then closed the laptop without waiting for any response and placed it on top of the box, carrying everything out to his truck. It was 7:35 PM when he pulled out of his driveway and headed to Dib’s house.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Zim was feeling anxious. The last feeding session with Keef had been humiliating and painful and he had a bad feeling that tonight’s was going to be even worse. He chewed on his bottom lip while he watched Dib eat every single spoonful of the soup he had made for dinner. Dib popped the last of his bread into his mouth. Zim waited with baited breath for Dib to finish eating; he could tell that the Human wanted to say something. 

“Zim –“

“Yes?!” Zim replied quickly, hoping that Dib was having second thoughts about tonight’s visit with Keef.

“Can you stop staring at me? It’s like your whole world revolves around me.” 

“It does.” Zim replied after a few moments.

Dib sighed, picking up his bowl to take it to the sink. Zim immediately grabbed it from his hand and took it to the sink himself. “See? That’s exactly what I’m talking about. I don’t want you to be a slave.” 

“I am quite happy to be your slave but if you don’t like it then I can be your pet, you already kind of treat me as one.” Zim said. “Like when you pet me and let me sleep in your bed.” 

Dib was taken aback at this. “You’re right.” He admitted. “I have kind of been thinking of you as a pet because you’re so cute but it’s not fair to you.” 

“You think I’m cute?” Zim asked, smiling prettily.

“I’m serious. I want you to have your own life, Zim.” Dib said encouragingly. 

“Are you going to make me get a job?” Zim asked dubiously. 

“No, I was thinking that maybe you could take some classes at the local college or something – do you have any interests in anything?”

“You.” Zim replied instantly. 

“I should have known you would say that.” Dib said. “Come on, you must have even just one thing you want to learn more about.“

Zim’s PAK prevented him from saying the first thought that came to his mind; clenching his jaw up again before he could open it. After his PAK released his mouth he said “Massage.”

Dib was quiet for a moment and looked at Zim quizzically. “Did he notice that that’s not what I wanted to say?” Zim thought hopefully. 

“Ok.” Dib finally answered but he looked a little uncomfortable with the decision. “I’ll look into what kind of classes they have and how to enroll you.”

Zim looked up at Dib with his large, red eyes. He was disappointed that Dib still didn’t seem to be able to read him at all. “But you said you didn’t want me to go outside.” Zim said slowly.

“You could get a disguise – a wig and maybe some contacts? To make you look more human.” Dib suggested. “Come on.” He grabbed Zim by the arm and dragged him over to his desk, suddenly very excited about this idea. He sat in his computer chair then googled ‘wigs.’ He clicked on the first site the search engine came up with.

“I have wigs in my box, Master.” Zim informed. 

“I want to pick something special for you.” Dib replied absently, clicking on the ‘customizing’ options: length, color, texture, style etc. He looked up at Zim several times as he was clicking away, making Zim start to feel a little warm from having Dib’s complete attention. “Okay.” Dib mumbled to himself then turned the monitor so that Zim could see.

Zim looked at the accessory with wide, buggy eyes. The wig was shoulder-length synthetic black hair, straight and choppy, however he noticed one thin stripe of pink on the left side near the front. It would make him look quite young – but he thought it was pretty cool. 

“Good?” Dib prompted. Zim nodded. 

“The contacts will be a problem – your eyes are a lot bigger than a Human’s . . . “ Dib thought out loud, running another search.

“I have special contacts.” Zim told him. “I’ll go get them.”

“Oh, okay.” Dib replied. Zim ran to his box and brought back a plastic case. He opened it for Dib to see the dozens of different colored contacts inside of it, floating in sterile gel.

“They’re for cosplay – wanna try it?” Zim said smoothly, putting his hand on Dib’s shoulder. 

Dib ignored Zim’s flirting and looked at each pair of contacts closely. Then he chose a pair. Zim looked to where he was pointing. The contacts were a pale shade of blue and for some reason that made him happy. Dib pictured him with baby blue eyes? Dib was leaning back in his chair proudly as he waited for Zim’s reaction. Zim nodded and took off his glove to put them in. Dib watched this closely for he had never seen Zim’s hands without gloves on and was fascinated by his slender fingers. Zim looked down at Dib with the most innocent face he could muster to show him how they looked.

“Wow, the red still kind of shows through the blue – they look . . . violet.” Dib said to himself. For a brief moment he saw a feminine face with short purple hair (a darker yet still similar shade to Zim’s new eyes) superimposed itself over Zim’s face. “Zita . . .” He whispered.

“Master?” Zim asked, not liking Dib’s suddenly distant eyes. He wanted his master’s attention back on him so he knelt down in front of him.

Dib blinked a few times then looked back at his computer. “Uh, they look good, I’ll just get you some normal clothes and you’ll be set.”

“Can’t I just wear your clothes?” Zim asked, rubbing his hands on his master’s thighs. Zim had somehow put his gloves back on without Dib noticing.

“No, you’re much too small – I’d never find you in them.” Dib answered, watching Zim’s hands rub up and down his legs slowly. 

“I could walk around naked.” Zim said enticingly. He licked his lips when he saw Dib’s eyes flick down to his mouth then stay there for much too long before looking back up into his eyes.

“Master is aroused.” Zim thought happily to himself when his PAK reported to him Dib’s increasing blood pressure. Zim leaned his face in closer and waited to see if Dib would allow him a kiss. It didn’t take long for him to not only allow a kiss but to initiate it. He crashed his lips to Zim’s as if he was desperate for the contact.

Zim leaned forward into his Human then climbed into his lap. Dib was kissing him furiously, breathing hot gasps into his mouth in between wet smacking sounds. At first Zim wanted to lose himself to it but then something happened inside of him. His heart was racing and his stomach was fluttering, and that was normal, but he opened his eyes and found himself staring at his Human’s face adoringly. Zim was incredibly turned on and he knew that Dib likes his sex a little rough, but he felt compelled to caress and worship Dib’s body slowly; to thoroughly love him at his own pace. Dib noticed his stillness and opened his eyes, confused. “What’s wrong?” He asked. 

Zim gazed into Dib’s brown eyes and smiled. “Nothing.” He replied then kissed Dib softly, slowly running his fingers through Dib’s hair and gently cupping the back of his head. His body trembled when Dib kissed back just as gently.

“This feeling . . . it can’t just be my programming.” Zim thought, now slowly grinding his hips into Dib’s lap. “I’ve never felt so at happy and nervous at the same time. This feeling is real.” 

Dingdong.

Zim thought he may have heard a bell far off in the distance but wasn’t sure. He was immersed in his new love and Dib was immersed in him. Zim ran his hands down then back up Dib’s back, resting them at his shoulders while he gently stroked his neck with a delicate finger. The feel of Dib’s strong body under his gloved hands was amazing and Zim needed more of it.

“Master, please.” Zim gasped, throwing his head back.

“Tell me what you want.” Dib asked, switching to nibbling at Zim’s neck. 

“I want you.” Zim rasped, sitting heavily onto the hardness under him. 

“Anything –“ Dib replied started but was interrupted.

Dingdong 

“What’s that?” Dib said, sitting back. 

“No!” Zim yelped, grabbing Dib by his neck and trying to pull him back into his embrace. 

“Zim, I think –“

“No, please. Not now!” Zim thought desperately. 

Dingdong dingdong dingdong dingdong!

“Keef’s here.” Dib said. Dib got up and Zim slid off of him onto the floor. Zim sat there with his legs curled up beneath him, looking so small.

“Master?” Zim whispered. He has to understand that I want only him and that he wants me too. He has to see what I feel for him in my eyes. “I lo-“

“I better get the door.” Dib interrupted and turned away.

Zim’s face fell, he was absolutely crushed. Was Dib really so blind?

“I thought you weren’t home for a minute there.” Keef said cheerily when Dib opened the door. He shot the Irken an irritated glance from behind Dib’s back. Zim wondered what that look meant.

“Oh sorry. I was just eating dinner and we, uh . . . yeah.“ Dib just cleared his throat lamely and let the sentence trail off. He left to go into his bedroom and get some things. 

“Don’t try that again.” Keef growled at Zim quietly, rushing to his side. “I saw you through the window, trying to get him to feed you. You slut, you belong to me now.” 

“I’m meeting my boss for drinks so I’ll probably be back kind of late.” Dib said, plopping down on the couch and not looking up at Zim or Keef who were in the kitchen. He started to tie up his shoe laces. “So Keef can you please lock up if you leave before I get back?”

“Sure, no problems buddy.” Keef replied happily. He clapped Dib on the shoulders as he walked out the door, Dib would still not look at him. Obviously he was embarrassed. Zim looked to the floor as his master walked out the door, unable to watch him leave. His heart sank even more when he heard the latch click.


	16. Chapter 16

“Bring this.” Keef demanded curtly. He threw his cardboard box into Zim’s lap, who was still sitting on the kitchen floor. Without even looking at the Irken the Human stomped into Dib’s bedroom with his laptop in hand. 

Zim swallowed thickly then stood. The box was not too heavy but it was closed up so Zim couldn’t see what was inside - he shook it a little in his hands as he brought it in the bedroom. The contents sounded muffled and Zim couldn’t tell what was inside, so he merely set it on the bed. Keef was busy with his computer so Zim decided to open the flaps. All he could see was a bunch of red plastic bunched up inside. He cocked his head at it.

“Have you been eating like I said?” Keef asked, typing on his laptop. 

“No. “ Zim stated bravely.

“Why not?” Keef demanded, turning on his heel and staring at the shorter male. “I told you to eat three boxes a day, now you won’t have to –“

“I don’t like it!” Zim said disobediently. 

“Don’t talk back to me!” Keef roared and approached Zim aggressively. Keef snatched Zim’s lekku in one hand and yanked his head down. Zim was too surprised to react and merely crumpled to his knees, eyes squeezed shut in agony. “You will do what I say from how on and I say that you will eat three boxes of that crap a day. Do you understand?”

Zim stubbornly stayed quiet, biting back the whimpers he wanted to release. 

“Do you understand?” Keef repeated, shaking Zim like a rag doll by his head. “Answer me!”

“Yes!” Zim cried, putting his hands over Keef’s and trying to get some relief. Keef squeezed the lekku for a few moments then let go. He snickered when Zim stayed on all fours but glared up at him audaciously, his ragged breathing belied his pain. 

Keef grabbed the red plastic tarp from his box and threw it over the small body of the Irken. “Hang this up - all around. I don’t want the camera to see any of the room behind you.” 

“Camera?” Zim yelped, realizing why Keef had put his laptop on the bed. “You’re recording this?!”

“Is that a problem?” Keef asked mockingly, tucking his curly hair back into a creepy mask. Only his blue eyes and mouth showed through cut-outs in the black leather. He undressed down to his underwear. Zim fumed when he saw that they were also made of black leather.

“Yes!” Zim said, throwing down the tarp. “That’s not part of the deal! You are just supposed to feed me and not anything else!”

“You are not to defy me again.” Keef said calmly and pointed to the tarp. “And when did I ever agree not to record our feeding sessions?”

“Master wouldn’t like it.” Zim said, defeated. Keef was right; they had never made such a stipulation. Keef pointed at the tarp again, saying nothing, and reluctantly Zim picked it back up. He saw that the corners were already affixed with double-sided tape and peeled back the protective plastic. He used his PAK grapplers to apply it high onto the walls. It was long enough that it also covered the ground too.

“’Master’ isn’t here and you will not tell him.” Keef said, focusing his webcam at the middle of the now red floor. “Sit there.” He ordered and pointed to the ground. 

Zim sat down where he was told to, suddenly very worried. Keef circled around to retrieve something that was on the bed behind the laptop and Zim took the opportunity to scowl at the computer – it was projecting the image from the camera onto its screen and he saw himself looking back. Keef came around then walked up behind Zim, then pulled a mask down over his head. It was black leather and covered his face completely; however there were two little holes at the top so his lekku could poke through. Obviously this mask was made for an Irken. 

“I don’t want to see that defiant look in your eyes anymore.” Keef explained. Zim didn’t like being in the dark like this and jumped a little when he felt Keef zip up the back. “So until you submit to me and learn to behave properly you will wear this.” 

Zim growled insolently when Keef unzipped a piece that was closed over his mouth. 

“I will never submit to you.” He said, and Keef swiftly smacked him in the face. Without his sight it was impossible for Zim to dodge so suddenly and his head jerked back with the impact. He growled again and again Keef smacked him. At this Zim chose to bite his tongue and quieted his rising petulance – if he angered the Human too much he could just easily refuse to feed him and then he would be in trouble; he didn’t want to make Dib feel like he was forced to take care of him again. Unfortunately Zim needed Keef.

“Good boy.” Keef said and rubbed Zim’s leathery head. Zim recoiled from him, barely stopping himself from hissing at the contact. Keef chuckled. “Hold your arms up.” 

Zim reluctantly obeyed and felt Keef pull Dib’s shirt he had been wearing up and over his head. Now he was left wearing his tight black pants, boots and black elbow-high gloves. He wasn’t surprised to hear hand cuffs click around one of his wrists next. Keef brought it back behind him and cuffed his hands together at his back. Zim shuddered as the Human’s fingers brushed his bare arm – he was completely repulsed by Keef and not afraid to show it.

“Ok.” Keef said to himself then walked back to his box. Zim heard him pick something up – it sounded like a cardboard box full of small pieces of something, like a cereal box. But Zim knew it wasn’t a cereal box, it was that damn Irken Chow (a product of iCy Inc.).

Keef hit record on his webcam and put his face in front of it. “Breaking an Irken, part one.” He said and moved aside to reveal his captive to the 5 people who were currently logged in. 

Several voices said words of appreciation (things like “oooh” and ”nice”) over the speakers, all were being warped by voice-modulating programs. They sounded like goblins to Zim, and all were most defiantly dangerous perverts.

“The theme today is food.” Keef announced and shook his box of chow in front of the camera. The voices murmured in approval then silenced to see what would unfold. “Feel free to PM me what you would like to see, or just call it out. You will get what you pay for here.” Keef said and opened the box. 

He pulled out a big chunk of raw chow and held it up to Zim’s mouth. The Irken did not open up. “Eat.” Keef said. Zim turned his head away. Keef felt embarrassed when he heard someone over the speaker snicker and he smacked Zim in the side of the head again. “Eat this, slave!” He tried but still Zim refused. 

“Spirited.” An excited heavily auto-tuned voice said. 

“Open your mouth and eat this.” Keef said very close to Zim’s head. He spit onto the mask with the force of his words at being defied yet again. “You must obey me.”

Zim’s head jerked up with a beep – his PAK had taken over. He grudgingly opened his mouth with a snarl and Keef placed the morsel inside. Zim chewed it and swallowed with a groan. “That’s better.” Keef said and filled his hand up with the smelly bits. He held it up to Zim’s mouth and the Irken silently began to eat out of his hand.

“Like a little kitten.” Keef said to the camera and several voices laughed. “This Irken is programmed to obey my every command; however he doesn’t make it easy.” Keef used his free hand to stroke Zim’s head and again the Irken jerked away from the contact. “But don’t worry, I will break his spirit. When I’m through with him he will eagerly do whatever I want – AH!” 

Keef cried out in pain and dropped his handful of food onto the floor when Zim’s needle-sharp teeth sunk into the meaty part of his hand. “Damnit!” He shouted and kicked Zim in the side. The Irken went down but he was smiling, red Human blood smearing the corner of his mouth. Keef shook his hand and inspected the damage. He had a semicircle of pin-point wounds, currently dribbling blood. 

“You’ll pay for that.” Keef growled too low for the mic on the computer to pick up.

“Worth it.” Zim scoffed back. 

“Asshole.” Keef mumbled and marched out of the room. Zim sat back up onto his knees, still smiling. He licked the blood off of his mouth and it sizzled slightly on his tongue. He heard Keef come back in and his smile left his face.

“If you will not play nice then we will do this the hard way.” Keef said. “But we will do it.”

Zim could hear the Irken chow being poured into a bowl, which sounded like it was a plastic one like the ones Dib usually kept in a cabinet above the sink. He next heard the sound of liquid being poured in after it. After hearing the crackling of the chow he knew that what had just been poured into it was water.

“No!” Zim cried. “Irkens can’t have water! It’ll –“

“I know what water will do to you.” Keef said. “I already told you before I’ve done my research. If you don’t eat like a good little boy then I will make you eat this. Don’t test me, I brought a feeding tube.” 

Zim hesitated. He hadn’t seen anything like that in Keef’s box but it could have been hiding underneath the tarp, or he could have been keeping it somewhere else. He briefly wondered if his PAK would allow Keef to force into him a substance that could kill him if he was exposed to enough of it. It did have a self-preservation program installed, but decided it was too risky. Keef would definitely not give him enough to initiate that program; probably just enough to make him sick and the PAK would assuredly allow that.

“Fine.” He answered grudgingly. 

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

Keef zoomed in on Zim’s throat as he swallowed another mouthful of chow. He heard signs of appreciation when his very small adam’s apple went up then back down again. Keef rubbed Zim’s growing belly then brought the camera back up to his face in an extreme close-up.

“I feel so sick.” Zim thought miserably. They had been doing this for what felt like forever and he was unpleasantly stuffed. Keef just kept spooning the chow into his mouth and filming it. He wanted to see Zim’s empty mouth after he had consumed it and then push on his stomach as it got bigger and bigger after each bite. He could tell by the sounds coming from the computer speakers that his audience was getting off on this but for the life of him he couldn’t figure out why – he thought it was kind of a weird fetish but kept quiet.

“1 bitcoin: make him puke.” One of the goblin voices said. Keef’s computer made a ringing sound as the donation was made. Keef smiled; with the current exchange he had just made almost $600.

“Mmmmm num num.” Keef murmured and nodded, finally putting the chow aside. He clipped the camera onto the top of his laptop to free up his hands, which he put onto Zim’s little round food baby belly. He rubbed them around a few times then pushed. 

“Urg.” Zim grunted in discomfort. “Stop.” 

“Oh, is my little kitten feeling sick?” Keef asked, pushing harder. Zim groaned again, his mouth watered as the urge to gag became stronger. He felt his stomach churn disgustingly. “Hold on, little kitten.” Keef grabbed the bowl from earlier, the chow had dissolved into a wet mash and the water had been stained brown. “Get on your hands and knees.” Keef ordered, moving around to behind the queasy Irken.

Zim got himself up on all fours and he heard Keef put the bowl down in front of him. “Is he really going to –?”

Zim’s thoughts were cut short when he felt a leash being tied around his middle. Keef pulled tightly on it and again Zim felt the urge to vomit. It was compounded even further when he felt the human run his hot hands down his thighs as he slipped Zim’s black pants down. Keef then thrusted his hips up against Zim’s backside. Zim could feel the hardened cock straining against the leather thong Keef was still wearing.

“I’m gonna . . . throw up.” Zim warned, trying to lean away from the human’s body. “Ugh . . . uh . . . “

“Please do.” Keef said then laughed in victory as he was rewarded. Zim retched several times, bringing up every last piece of Irken chow from the pit of his stomach. When he was finished he tried to sit back on his heels, just feeling miserable, but Keef wouldn’t let him. He unzipped the zipper in the front of his leather thong and his rock hard dick was poking out of it. He coated it with saliva and roughly shoved it inside of Zim when he was at his weakest in a few quick jabs. 

Zim gasped in surprise and pain. He was absolutely miserable, his stomach was feeling unbearably tight and he was still salivating from having just vomited. His poor body broke out in a cold sweat as it was being rocked back and forth by Keef’s pounding member as he fucked him. The Human wasn’t very big but it was enough to make Zim feel uncomfortable warmth in his bowels from the unwanted friction.

“1/2 Bitcoin: make him eat it.” A voice came. Then the ring of being paid. 

Immediately Zim felt Keef grab hold of his lekku again and couldn’t help the whimpers that escaped him. He was absolutely mortified and under Keef’s complete control. Keef brought his face down to the bowl he had just puked in. ”Eat it.” He commanded, not letting up on his thrusts from behind.

“No.” Zim grunted. It may be ultimately hopeless because of his programming but he would still fight to the end. The smell of the chow mixed with his own stomach juices and the water was just nauseating and he dry-heaved again. There was nothing left to come up so he just retched pathetically and his eyes watered under the mask. 

“When will you learn?” Keef said and stopped his ministrations. He came around and stood in front of Zim quietly. At first Zim was confused – what was he doing? Then he realized that he was jacking himself off right in front of Zim who was still on all fours. Understanding dawned on him when he heard Keef emit an ugly moan and release his pleasure – it dribbled out of him and into the bowl. A few drops splattered on the floor around it. “Now you have to eat it.” Keef said, swirling his cum into the mash. He then set the bowl back down and stepped back. 

The Irken growled deeply in his throat. He had been backed into a corner and this made him very angry. Now he had decided he doesn’t care what his PAK did to him, he would NOT obey. Keef chuckled darkly when he saw Zim’s body tense up and tremble a few times in rapid succession – his PAK was sending pulses of electricity up his body in an effort to force him to comply with his human’s demands. Zim resisted, sitting back on his heels and shaking his head. His body then jolted fiercely as he was electrocuted harshly, still he resisted. The sound of skin against skin slapping could be heard through the computer as his body convulsed again, engulfed in blue light as he was shocked mercilessly. Someone, or maybe everyone, who was watching was fapping to his torture. 

Zim screamed and fell to the floor as he was again consumed in light, but he welcomed it at the same time. He would do anything rather than eat that disgusting bowl of filth, even if it meant his death. And at this point he wished it would. He felt his consciousness waver – his body overheating. If it didn’t stop soon he would pass out, maybe die he didn’t know. This had never happened before. He screamed again, curling into a fetal position and retching again as he lost control of his body functions. Another strong pulse and everything went black.

zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz

 

Keef was surprised when the Z passed out. He had thought it would be indestructible, how could a little electrocution make it lose consciousness? Even so he was quite impressed with its ability to resist him to this extreme.

“Please input password if you would like to initiate self-destruct.” The PAK said pleasantly, contrary to the current condition of its host.

The body had stopped convulsing and now sat unmoving at his feet. He could see that Zim wasn’t even breathing at this point, everyone was waiting for his next move. 

“Do it.” Someone said over the speakers. “1 Bitcoin.”

“2 Bitcoins: don’t do it.”

“3 Bitcoins: don’t give the password, just strangle it and fuck it at the same time!”

“I don’t want to kill him just yet.” Keef said and saw Zim’s chest fill with air as he took a breath. “What will we do next week then?”

The voice murmured their agreement, though some sounded disappointed. “I think this is enough for today, look how far I’ve pushed him.” Keef used his foot to push Zim onto his back. “He has to cum in order to end the session so I’m going to finish him off like this. If you want to watch that you can, otherwise please log in next week at the same time for scene 2 of ‘Breaking an Irken’, theme will be ‘body piercing’.” 

Keef looked up and saw that one or two people logged off but the rest of them stayed to watch. He tried several times to get Zim’s dick to come out of its sheath with his hands but was unsuccessful so he ultimately had to order his PAK to make him erect. Even though he was unconscious, Zim’s body still responded to the stimulation and Keef made quick work of getting him off. Once he was finished with that he lifted Zim’s legs up and over his shoulders, then re-entered his tightness to complete the feeding. It took a little longer than he expected to cum again – it was far less exciting with the Irken unresponsive and he had already cum once but he knew if they didn’t do this properly then Zim would get sick again (and he was afraid that after what he had seen earlier Dib would realize he didn’t need Keef after all). He heard another person log off while he was in the middle of this but didn’t let it falter his rhythm and finally he was able to finish the job. 

Keef irritatedly tore down his red tarp and packed his things way, then picked Zim up and placed him in Dib’s bed. After tucking him in nicely (Dib still had to think this was a pleasant experience after all), Keef packed up his box and left, locking the door behind him.


End file.
